


Crown of Creation

by SpiteMeister



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: Coming of Age, Divinity, F/M, Some abuse/neglect, maenads - Freeform, sassy Lord of the Underworld, spirituality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-27
Updated: 2014-07-03
Packaged: 2017-12-27 19:36:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/982791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiteMeister/pseuds/SpiteMeister
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These are the trials through which Kore becomes Queen Persephone, Crown of the Underworld, Throne of Revelations.</p><p>Originally posted on FFnet. Title borrowed from Jefferson Airplane song.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Strange Voice

**Part I**

Kore was frequently discouraged from day-dreaming for too long. Her mother said that the activity - or lack thereof - was detrimental to her health and work. So, Kore tried to be aware of when she drifted off; especially in the presence of her mother. However, if she grew bored, or simply tired, she would give in quite easily to the wanderings of her mind. She would imagine far-off places that nymphs whispered about in excited tones, or about herself. She had heard her mother also say that pride and vanity would get her nowhere, but she couldn't help but want to think of herself as becoming great. Her mother declared it to be nonsense, as Kore was already a goddess, and therefore ought to not think herself capable of doing much better.  
  
Kore longed for adventures beyond her everyday chores. If she was a goddess, she argued, why couldn't she do whatever she wanted? Her mother didn't take kindly to such disobedience, so Kore always found the tasks multiplied after she asked such things. She found solace in the nymphs wherever they went, for they were much more interesting than flowers. Most of the time.  
  
By the time Kore was 10, Demeter moved the two of them to a somewhat-remote island that she insisted she had neglected for too long. Kore didn't question the move for the first few years, but then, after her mind began to sharpen, she wondered what had led her mother to inhabit such a finely stocked island. An island, too, that could easily bear the burden of a society five times the size of the one already inhabiting it. Nevertheless, she knew she couldn't change such circumstances, and contented herself to believe that the only things in the world were her, Mother, the nymphs, and the ever-distant island people her mother forbade her to meet.  
  
She trained her self-discipline to keep herself from truly disobeying Mother and getting too close to mortals. With all her might, she tuned herself in to the daily work, and the chatter of nymphs. Every once in a very little while, her curiosity of the outer world could be satisfied by news from Nereids, though the words had often filtered through the Dryads and Nyads first. She would ask pointed questions, which the nymphs would refuse to answer, but soon found that they would answer if flattered from the start. After much sly practice, she could ask them the most shocking of questions that had made her mother blush, and be given an answer.  
  
"Oh, my dear Dysis," Kore started out in a child's voice, "you are positively glowing! What is the occasion? Has something great happened since we last said goodbye?"  
  
Dysis giggled lightly. "Kore. Oh, sweet Kore. I wish you could know the wonders of men, but alas! honored Demeter is set in her way."  
  
"Pray tell me, what way is that?" Kore asked, feigning naivety; but underneath, calculating the answer.  
  
"Poor, sweet Kore. Your esteemed Mother insists that you never know a man's embrace. She will protect you with all parts of a mother's power that you may never meet the fate she did." Just as the words slipped past Dysis's mouth, the nymph's countenance paled. Kore kept a stilled expression over indignant despise, and pressed on.  
  
"I wish I could have some of your luck, but perhaps I am well-off enough just to know you!" Kore reached gently for the nymph's hands and squeezed ever so lightly at the exclamation. "Please, tell me what it's like, for I shall never know half of what you know." Thus, Kore learned worldly matters right under Mother's very nose, and the nymphs were wise enough to never say a word of Kore's cunning ways.  
  
But when the heads of her Mother and the nymphs were all turned away, she practiced things that had been inspired by the very dreaming her Mother had always discouraged. By some mistake during her chores, she found that she could lift water right out of the soil, and even out of plants. After that, she played with her powers for long stretches - often after providing a puzzling distraction for any potential meddlers. Sometimes she would kill plants and bring them back to life from sheer will. She would peer into what the trees had witnessed for so many years. Kore never got clear pictures, but the memories were so homogenized that she would grow too bored to sort them all out. She was almost caught by a Dryad once, but after that she always checked carefully as to whether anyone was at home.  
  
After a few more years on that island, Kore could even get the very young plants to tell her of secrets, or a dead leaf from the other side of the island to tell her what the people were like. No matter what she tried to content herself with, unfortunately, she found that her curiosity was insatiable. The more she learned, the more she wanted to know. It was the most frustrating thing she had come to feel in her life at that time, and the sensation began to rival her annoyance with her Mother.  
  
When she was almost 17, she couldn't bear the secrecy any more, and directly challenged Mother on the subject of the world beyond the island. That was the first time her Mother ever hit her, and that night, there was a heavy silence over the island.  
  
 **Part II**  
  
The very next day, Kore discovered that most of the nymphs were avoiding her and Mother's part of the island. She was rather thankful for the solitude, and sat on the beach of a cozy, small inlet, contemplating this new turn of events. Flattery couldn't possibly work on Mother because, as a full goddess, she was inherently smarter than what Kore was used to dealing with. Kore nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw legs appear next to her own bare ones. She turned, and saw a person she had never seen in all her life.  
  
"Oh dear. I'm sorry to cause such a stir," the woman said with a smile melting her smart features into the very picture of warmth.  
  
"Who are you? Goddess? Nymph? Human?" Kore, having been caught off-guard, had lost her grasp on the smooth charm she used as a weapon.  
  
There came a buttery-sweet laugh, quiet and subtle, pleasing the very air. "I am Xenophon, a nymph visiting the island."  
  
"Well, you might have come on a better day than this, for there is no company, and Mother won't be in the mood for guests, I'm afraid." Kore was stalling as she composed herself again. She looked the nymph over, and found her to be very different from any other she had known. Her skin was a dark, rich brown, and her black hair was gathered into a tight knot almost on the top of her head. She had a queenly look to her, with exaggerated, yet graceful, features, and long, slender body adorned with black patterns, the likes of which Kore had never seen. Her raiment was a white robe, elegant in simplicity. "Where do you come from?"  
  
"I come from a hallowed land," Xenophon replied. Several questions raced through Kore's head, and she tried to sequence them so that they might all be answered. Maybe her ways might work on this nymph as well...  
  
"Then you must be very blessed indeed."  
  
"Some tell me I am. But I am no more blessed than others."  
  
"What is this land, then? Others speak highly of you by your account, so now I am curious." Kore was about to resort to grasping, as it seemed that Xenophon would not have the pride or vanity of other nymphs. To her astonishment, Xenophon let out a hearty, full laugh with deep tones - not the stringy giggles of her sisters.  
  
"Kore, Goddess of the Spring, your ways are well-known to nymphs, but I will dare your wrath and refuse your trifling. Nay, do not be angered, for I am here to offer you something that your acquaintances have of long deprived you."  
  
"In such a case as this," Kore said warily, "I suppose I will stave off my need for revenge if you can keep your word. What do you think they have kept from me?"  
  
"The society of mortals, of course," Xenophon said with ease, standing up and offering her hand to help up Kore.  
  
"I can hardly believe you. Do you not know my Mother?"  
  
"She wouldn't interfere. Trust me, it is all a part of the plan." Kore took her hand, and the two began the walk into town. The quiet didn't last long between them, as Kore thought up new ways to get this nymph to talk.  
  
"So, you are a traveler, then? Or shall I be honored by knowing that you only visit me?" Kore asked sweetly.  
  
"Yes, I travel frequently. I'd never come to this place before, and since I heard tell that Demeter herself had taken residence here, I decided that occasion had arisen for me to visit. This trip is only to visit the two of you."  
  
"Where else have you gone?" Kore asked without thinking.  
  
"I spend a lot of time around the coasts of this sea. I've been farther east than Persia, farther south than Egypt, and farther north than Macedonia."  
  
"Have you been to the Western Ocean?" Kore asked, abandoning all attempts to regain her intellectual footing.  
  
Xenophon gave another pleasing chuckle. "Indeed. I have seen it and all of its secrets. Tell me - do you often engage in conversation with mortals?"  
  
Kore was itching to ask her what she could possibly mean by the former statement, but supposed that she might answer a question or two to gain trust. This nymph was quite the worthy opponent. "Not for these seven years at least."  
  
"That is very unfortunate for a young goddess! I wouldn't be surprised if it were even detrimental. Well, you need not worry, for I shall be your guide today. Oh! listen," she said, and the two came to a stop, straining their ears. Kore could hear it. Even the wind was different; for it struck buildings and not trees. It whipped through linen, pots, ropes, and in the far distance, the canvas of sails. The overtones of speech not spoken by nymphs whetted Kore's thirst for adventure. "Kore?"  
  
Kore turned at the sound, and saw that Xenophon was holding a pair of sandals to her. She hadn't needed sandals in a long time. "Why?"  
  
"These people... well, they haven't the cleanest of streets I suppose."  
  
"There are streets? With stones?" Kore asked excitedly.  
  
"Yes, dearest Kore. Am I right in assuming you've never been to a city?"  
  
"I hardly remember my only time in one. I was very little, and now Mother goes without me."  
  
"I believe, then, that an excursion to a harbor or a market would do wonders for you." Kore gasped in delight, and immediately adorned the sandals. She was more than ready for a little excitement in her life.  
  
The trees thinned rapidly as they walked closer, and suddenly they were at the end of a quiet street. At the other end, stones began. "The only thing I ask, is that you don't leave me," Xenophon said. "Can you manage that? I would hate to have to come find you."  
  
"I can do that," Kore acquiesced. Then, thinking quickly, added, "but you have to answer some of my questions, now." Xenophon nodded and then led Kore into town. Fortunately for the former, Kore was diverted in an instant by the new world before her. She loved the sights of houses and walls and children. She hadn't seen many children at all, besides herself! There were people casually talking, mothers hard at work, boys chasing girls with little creatures, and girls chasing boys with puckered lips. There were hardly any girls or boys her age about. When she asked about that, Xenophon said, "They are either learning skills for their married years, or making preparations for marriage."  
  
That stung Kore. Why couldn't she have what they had? Xenophon could practically see her thoughts, and spoke softly so Kore couldn't hear, "In good time, goddess. You are still asleep."  
  
The hurt didn't last very long at all, for suddenly the smell of food overran all sense of pain. The smell was coming from houses, and shops, and street-side vendors. There was pita and other breads baking, lamb roasted on a spit, sauces simmering with hard-earned spices, cheese melting, and on top of all those, the fresh sea air on a clear summer day, bringing the promise of open-air markets.  
  



	2. The Needle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was first written about three years ago. I haven't changed it too much since then, but once the whole story is complete, I'll come back and re-do these early chapters.

"Kore," Xenophon said, calling the young goddess's attention.  
  
"Mm?" Kore asked, fiddling with a necklace that had caught her eye.  
  
"How often does your mother talk about your family?"  
  
"I thought you'd know that, since you are already familiar with how the nymphs and I pass our days."  
  
"Nymphs are much less complicated than gods and goddesses."  
  
"You are the exception that proves the rule," Kore said, almost bitterly. "But, it shouldn't be a great surprise that she doesn't tell me anything beyond names."  
  
"A shame. You have never ventured to Olympus, then?"  
  
"Out of the question," the young goddess shot back quickly. There was a brief moment of silence and then Kore relented, "I would rather not come across as rude, so mightn't we turn the tide of conversation to something more flattering to my sensibilities than the rules of my mother?" She glanced at Xenophon to see the reaction.  
  
Xenophon had a humble, soft smile on her face. "No need to feel ashamed of anything, dear one."  
  
"What did you mean by saying I'm still asleep?"  
  
"I'm just trying to feel around the edges of your life," Xenophon said (ignoring Kore's inquiry, as she had been sure that Kore hadn’t heard it), "It becomes rather noisome to hear rumor upon rumor of Demeter's children-" Kore started at this and whipped her head around to pointedly stare at the nymph "-and never find a trace of them. I can arrest my own curiosity when it has been sated, so do tell me more about how you have been living." They stopped for a moment and Xenophon bought two pieces of flaky, warm bread with cheese melted on top. She handed one to Kore, and looked at her expectantly.  
  
Kore nibbled thoughtfully, and then said, "You should also answer my questions, because I believe you might empathize with my curiosity."  
  
"I may only say this in answer to your recent question: you will find out in good time. You say I must answer your questions, so what else do you ask?"  
  
"'Rumor upon rumor of Demeter's children'? My mother never mentioned I have a brother or sister."  
  
"If you treat every horse you come across like a brother, then you will have shown true sisterly love," Xenophon said very simply. Kore stared at the nymph with loathing and horror. "You can just barely tolerate the truth and you are her daughter. Imagine why she has always kept him hidden." Kore felt that she was done asking questions for now, and let silence lapse between them as they ate.  
  
When they started moving again, they came to a different part of the market with beads and cloth and jewels. They shone in the sun and distracted Kore from Xenophon. The latter had patience with Kore, and as the young goddess walked away Xenophon dropped money into the hands of the merchants and picked up a piece or two along the way.  
  
As they got closer and closer to the bay, Kore began to feel more and more like talking to this nymph and less like her usual guarded and plotting self. She didn't mind the change, and finally turned and asked, "So what did you come to me for?"  
  
Xenophon smiled and said, "Let's find a quiet spot to go, and then we shall talk." She bought some fruit off of one of the vendors nearby and the goddess and the nymph found a secluded section of a wall overlooking a marina where they could stop. Xenophon kicked her legs over the edge, and Kore swung hers across the rock so they faced each other. Xenophon gave Kore an apple and waited for the goddess to take a few contented bites before saying, "Where did you live before this?"  
  
"I don't quite remember because I've been here for so long. All I can remember is that there was more water where we used to live - a lot more. Not water like the ocean, because I remember everything was just ... <i>wet</i>. All the time."  
  
"A swamp or marsh, perhaps?"  
  
"Perhaps," Kore said softly, trying to remember more about it. Xenophon gave her very little time to ponder before the next question came.  
  
"Did you ever have a mentor of any sort?"  
  
"I can just barely read; and besides the nymphs, my mother, and you, I've never really met anyone else."  
  
"Then Demeter has seriously broken with tradition. Nearly every god and goddess - except Athene and Hades of course - has had a mentor; even Zeus." Kore felt slighted, and Xenophon could sense it. "However, if it makes you feel any better, perhaps you haven't had one yet because the Fates have something else in store for you."  
  
"Would you be my mentor?" Kore asked, suddenly very hopeful. She liked this nymph who had already given her more freedom in one hour than anyone else had let her have in her life.  
  
"There are certain coming events in my life that prevent me from being able to," Xenophon responded simply and Kore's spirits sunk. "I am sure, though, that you will have someone very soon."  
  
Kore looked back at the sea, and stared absentmindedly for a while. "Do you have any other questions?"  
  
"No."  
  
"I was expecting more."  
  
"I know ... listen, we should get you back before your mother knows what happened."  
  
"I don't want to go back," Kore said stubbornly.  
  
"You must. I may sound like your mother when I say this, but there are truly some gods - and goddesses, for that matter - that you <i>should</i> be hidden from. You have an entirely different destiny than the others, and one that's never likely to formed again. By hiding you away from your destiny, your mother is playing right into Fate's hands! We must go back now."  
  
With those words, Kore was much more willing to go back. They walked away from the ocean, then passed the market and homes and finally came to the woods. "Here is where I take leave of you, Goddess of the Spring," Xenophon said. "We shall meet again soon, but until then, take this," and she held out her hand to Kore.  
  
All it was was a threaded needle, which both confused and disappointed Kore. When she looked up, Xenophon had already disappeared. Kore sighed and walked back to the house, hiding the needle in a fold of her robe. Demeter called her just as she got to her room and found a safe place for the needle. She went back outside to help with whatever task her mother had for her: she had a new hope that someone would come for her, so menial tasks were a little more bearable.


	3. Complicated Matters

**Part I**

 

The Hall was generally noisy, but a stifling silence had filled the air as Zeus and Poseidon waited. Not even the most cheerful bird could have pierced the atmosphere with shrill song. Hades watched his brothers' discomfort for an extended period of time before pulling his chilly cloak around him and gliding gracefully into the great chamber.  
  
"Greetings," he said quietly. His words echoed, even softly spoken; he liked to use this effect to spook his hosts whenever he visited.  
  
Poseidon shifted uncomfortably, and Hades didn't miss it. Zeus spoke, though: "Welcome-" his voice was the slightest bit shaky "-we've been waiting for you, brother."  
  
"Hm, really? I sincerely apologize; I forget about Time," he said with a bow. "What do you require?"  
  
"Something has been stirring between your world and Poseidon's world. I have called the two of you here to put together a strategy to find out if this power is beneficent or malevolent. We must also have a contingency plan in the case that it means to harm our world."  
  
"And if we are to make a plan, what are you going to do?" Hades asked. Poseidon looked from one to the other, but said very little. "I have felt the power shifting in my consciousness," Hades continued, "but it's been happening for so long; and it hasn't grown."  
  
Zeus was silent, but there was an angry look in his eyes. Hades thought that maybe he had overdone it this time - Zeus hated being chided, especially in front of others. "I am in charge of this effort. I had expected that my brothers, being in better positions to deal with this trouble, would have helped me." Hades felt spite rise from the bottom of his gut, but he kept a tight rein on it.  
  
"Very well."  
  
Zeus nodded with smug look. "If you could search your domains for the point where the power is strongest, then we can start gathering specifics. Take care to not disturb it, though."  
  
Poseidon jumped right into the conversation. "I have many creatures and beings to do my bidding. They shall search every corner of the known seas and beyond. I shall even ask gods and spirits of lakes and rivers to help me." He bowed to Zeus, and they looked expectantly at Hades.  
  
He let the suspense build for dramatic effect and then conceded, "I shall use as many resources as necessary to find this ... threat." His brothers breathed out a sigh in relief. "And now I take my leave." He turned to go.  
  
"One more thing," Zeus said. There was a playful hint in his voice.  
  
"Yes?" He saw now that Poseidon knew what was going on, and wondered if he should be worried.  
  
"Have you heard of Demeter's girl? It's human this time," Zeus said with derision.  
  
"That's nice," Hades said, turning to go. He stopped, smiled inwardly, and added, "And my source tells me that she's extremely intelligent and not to be used the way you use women. Happy hunting. If you touch her, my source will not be happy, and I will know." He kept walking, even though his brothers called questions after him.  
  
 **Part II**  
  
Kore swished her foot around in the water of a small pool. The glade was shining with dew and the morning sun shone bright through leaves. She had told the nymphs to leave her alone that day - quite a change from every other birthday. Ever since Xenophon, she couldn't stand the idle brains of her caretakers. Thus had passed four unbearable months, catering to the drama of the nymphs and the needs of her every-busy mother. Before this birthday she had never felt like she was truly growing older, but now she felt too old; too big for the way she had lived for so long.  
  
She gave one big splash with her foot, then stood up and walked back home. The eyes of the nymphs were still on her, and she hurried up to get inside where they couldn't see her. In her room she took out the threaded needle and lay on her mattress, holding it up to the light. She hadn't used it, because she felt that it was meant for something truly special. But she didn't get it: what was it for? She supposed she would know when the moment came.  
  
Heavy, bull-like footsteps pounded across the house, and she put the needle aside. Demeter opened the door only a second later and Kore immediately knew something was wrong. She sat up, and waited for her mother to speak.  
  
"Have you spoken to someone?" her mother asked angrily. Kore was shocked by the question and before she could think about it, she said, "No."  
  
It was only after she spoke that she remembered that her mother had never seen Xenophon. Kore showed no emotion to give herself away, and let her mother continue.  
  
"Well, I hope you're happy with all your daydreaming, because all your dreams are about to come true," her mother spat. Kore was really upset - her mother always twisted things this way.  
  
"Mother ... tell me what's going on?" She was very meek and treaded lightly around her powerful mother, having learned the lesson well and often enough.  
  
"This!" a letter was thrown onto Kore's mattress, next to her lap. Kore picked it up, and unfolded it to admire the writing. The lines turned, thickening and thinning at even intervals all straight across the page. She could make out very basic words like the names of her and her mother and 'party.' Excitement rose in her chest, but she tried her best not to look too hopeful.  
  
"What does it say?" she asked in a small voice, handing it back to her mother. Her mother didn't take it and instead walked out of the room.  
  
"Just get ready to go."  
  
"Where?"  
  
"Stop asking questions and clean up! Clean your room, too!" Her mother's voice faded, and Kore looked around at her spotless room. She shrugged and got out a small book so she could look up all the characters in the letter. It took a long time, but she eventually sounded out some of the words, and realized that she had been invited to a party on Olympus. Kore wondered why her mother was complying grudgingly, let alone at all. The letter was put under her roll, the book under the mattress, and she hurried to the small basin to scrub her face and any part of her body she could reach with water before it sloshed out of her hands.  
  
Out of her trunk she pulled the cleanest frock and skirt she could find. Her best ones were at the bottom so she took out the only matching ones she had. They were her favorites because of the black embroidery at the hems and the fact that they weren't white like the rest of her clothing: they were a nice light brown. She dressed quickly and put on her deerskin boots that she almost never wore. Her hair was brushed until it was soft and clean. She considered pulling it back but decided to leave it down.  
  
Her mother was waiting for her outside, wearing a long deep-green robe with rich golden embroidery all over. A beautiful, slim belt wrapped around her waist, and her feet were clad in sandals. She had never seen her mother like this: her hair was even up! and she was wearing jewelry!  
  
Kore felt ashamed of herself for dressing so poorly, even though she knew for a fact that it was the absolute best she could do.  
  
A small carriage pulled up not two seconds later, pulled by a single gigantic dun stallion. The driver was a mortal with a very vacant expression. Kore had a feeling that her mother had done something to him, but got into the carriage without a word. The ride was entirely silent, because Kore knew not to say anything when her mother was in one of those moods. She was nervous as to whether all gods were like that, but tried to focus on the scenery as it went by.  
  
The carriage started going faster and faster until they were going straight into the air. Kore closed her eyes, and stopped looking. This was one of the scariest feelings in her life.  
  
She was almost certain she had fainted because when she opened her eyes the carriage had stopped on a rocky outcrop. Her mother didn't look at her when they got out and started walking. The air was very thin, so she stayed close to Demeter as they continued the ascent on foot. Night was beginning to fall and Kore was very sorry that she hadn't thought to bring something warm. She was starting to feel small again, and she wasn't sure whether she liked it or not.  
  
Suddenly, a golden glow filled all her senses and she felt light and happy. The very next moment a gate appeared before them and opened to let them in. Demeter led her through, and they come to a huge complex that looked like a small village. It was certainly richer than the only town she had ever been to, and she felt the need to cling a little more to her mother. They walked through the surprisingly empty streets, and Kore felt that the place stretched on and on.  
  
Towers started showing over some of the buildings and gradually Kore realized they were coming upon one of the greatest structures she had ever seen. The rest of it came into view very suddenly when they rounded one last corner and were able to see the entire radiant palace. Instinctively she reached for her mother's hand and yet was ambivalent about the fact that the grip she got in return was firm and sure.  
  
Too late to go back. Her life was about to change _forever_ and she was aware of it like falling from the top of a great tree.  
  
The doors of the palace made a grinding sound as they were opened, and Kore felt her stomach twist.  
  
Just beyond was the rest of her life.  
  
The rest of her life.  
  
The brilliance of such a gathering struck her dumb, and every eye in the bedecked Hall turned to her when she came in. These weren't the eyes of the nymphs, these were eyes that had seen ugliness and beauty, horrors and wonders. And now, they all looked as though they were seeing for the first time.  
  
And they were.  
  
Kore was rooted to the spot as a hush fell upon every single guest. She wasn't sure if she was ready for this.  
  
"To Persephone!" a cry went up. It was echoed on every lip, and glasses were raised to her. Her knees went week and she laughed nervously. _They obviously have me confused with someone else._  
  
"Um ... hi," she said quietly, surprised to hear her own voice reverberate at the back of the Hall. "I'm Kore, not Persephone." Every single god and goddess looked utterly bewildered, and Kore felt guilty for letting them down.  
  
"The child doesn't know her own name!" Kore heard someone whisper. It was her turn to be confused. She looked around for her mother, and realized that Demeter was standing stock still, mouth pursed in a thin line. Something was seriously wrong, and this felt like it was an ambush. Before she could ask questions, a hand clasped on her shoulder that was definitely not from someone she knew.


	4. A Night of Happenstance

Kore followed the hand on her right shoulder with her head and saw a god standing just behind her. He was much taller than she, and when she looked into his eyes she saw they were mismatched - mostly black with shocking green on the outside of the left - and the effect was frightening. His long dark hair didn’t help much, either. Behind him were a few more deities also looking completely out of place. She felt a chill shoot through her bones and turned her attention back to the crowd. They all seemed to be feeling the same effects as she and not a single one stirred.  
  
“Glad to see the festivities are under way,” came the god’s smooth voice. “Good to see you at last, Kore.” He picked his hand up off of Kore’s shoulder and moved along into the crowd. A path opened up as other gods and goddesses moved aside for him. Greetings were uttered to her as the rest of his group passed Kore. She was astounded and it looked as though her mother felt the same way. Once the group had dispersed, a new god appeared before them. The glow of the entire place might as well have come from him and him alone because his smile could have lit kindling.  
  
“Welcome, my sister Demeter and my lovely Kore! I am very happy you could attend this party.” He came a little closer to Kore, and Demeter stood in between the two of them. “Oh come now, sister, let her enjoy her own birthday.” A smirk grew across his face that Kore shivered to see, without knowing why. “Besides, remember what I said in the letter. We wouldn’t any trouble, would we?” Kore could tell, even from her angle, that her mother was pale and livid.  
  
“Zeus. Make no mistake that _either_ of us would want any trouble,” Demeter said in a low voice. Zeus’s smugness slipped off his face minutely. Before any more words could be exchanged between them, the god that had come from behind them brought a glass over to Kore.  
  
“Since my siblings are intent on throwing a wet blanket over this...” he turned and looked at Demeter and Zeus’s faces for a moment “... _happy_ occasion, I feel obligated to make up for it. Have some nectar. You too, Demeter.” He had only brought two glasses and he all but shoved the second one into Demeter’s hands. With that, he threw an arm around Kore’s shoulders and swept her away into the crowd. “Resume your merriment,” he said simply to the crowd.  
  
Just as if everyone had been holding their breath underwater, the conversations rose up again like a gasp for air.  
  
“So ... who are you?” Kore asked the god as he led her deeper into the crowd.  
  
“I am Hades. Has Demeter ever mentioned me?”  
  
“No. She never talks about anyone here. I don’t know any of these people.” Kore felt very unlike herself. “And why did they think I’m Persephone? Who’s that?”  
  
“You’ll find out eventually. For now, though, the feast is about to begin. I am sure Zeus is persuading Demeter to join it as we speak.”  
  
“She never tells me anything. Might you know why she is so resolute against coming here?”  
  
“I understand - but only a little - why she wouldn’t want to come here. Most of the gods here simply don’t have their heads on right. Demeter had enough sense to stay away for a while, but our kind can be persistent. She has been hurt.” The smooth arrogance had slid from his voice on those last words. Hades turned to Kore and finished, “You must take it at that, because the rest will be revealed in time. For now, it is your place to tolerate and accept your mother.”  
  
Kore was dismayed, for no one had ever spoken in such a manner to her. She hadn’t been aware of which way they were going, but when they came to a large table at the end of the vast Hall she refocused on her surroundings and stared in awe at the feast that was being set. Gods were standing at varied intervals around, waiting for Zeus to take his place. Hades ushered Kore to a place two spots away from the head of the table and then took his place one spot away on the other side. Kore felt a little less comfortable now that her guide had left her, even though he was only sitting diagonal from her.  
  
Soon enough, every god stood behind his or her chair; Kore saw that Demeter was across from her. Zeus was the last to take his place and he lifted his glass while looking at Kore. Kore wanted to shrink away so that it would stop.  
  
“To life!” Zeus said. It was echoed in a jubilant rumble throughout the hall. Kore looked over at Hades just in time to see him mouth ‘ _to you'_ and wink at her before focusing again at the head of the table.  
  
Kore finally drank the nectar and was astonished at how sweet it was. She felt her mother’s eyes on her, and supposed that her mother was watching to see if her daughter would become just like every other god in the assembly. She lowered her glass and set it beside her plate as she and everyone else clambered into their chairs.  
  
There was a flurry of white above their heads - Kore was surprised she could even detect it against the brightness - and suddenly a huge flock of doves descended upon the table. In pairs they brought large bowls made of pale gold and wrought into the shapes of flowers. The birds alighted before each god’s place with the bowls they carried, and Kore saw that there was ambrosia in each. She glanced around the table out of vague curiosity, but then focused in on how the birds acted around Hades. They moved a little more slowly, and looked almost … contemplative. They cooed lowly and preened themselves before taking off.  
  
The ambrosia was even sweeter than the nectar, and Persephone decided almost immediately that it was a little much. Of course she liked sweet food, but this was overdone. She looked down the table but no one else seemed perturbed in the same way she was. They were mostly caught up in talk, occasionally throwing a smile her way. She looked up the table, and noted immediately that Hades was swirling his utensil on the food.  
  
“This is almost as bad as the feast that Tantalus threw,” Hades said with a silly grin to Zeus, who seemed quite put out at that comment. Demeter snorted and his grin turned wicked. “Of course you’d remember, my dear sister.” Demeter’s countenance was suddenly rather stormy.  
  
Poseidon, sitting to Hades’ left, sighed. “You do this every time.”  
  
“I’m invited every time,” Hades retorted.  
  
No one else could really hear them, as Kore deduced by looking at the faces nearest her. It couldn’t hurt to ask questions.  
  
“What feast?” Kore asked brightly.

“Don’t you dare answer,” Demeter said to Hades in a vicious-but-low whisper.

“Oh Demeter... you spoil my fun.” Hades said tauntingly.

“Please don't stir up the other guests too much,” Zeus implored.

“I guess that's that,” Hades sighed dramatically. “Maybe we should talk about the task you've set me, then,” he said innocently.

“Go ahead and talk about the feast with Tantalus,” Zeus said, taking a swift mouthful of ambrosia. Demeter made a noise of protest.

“Absolutely not!”

“What task?” Kore asked, provoking another twinkle in Hades' eyes.

“Don't answer,” said Zeus sharply to Hades .

“This is ill-fated to become the dullest dinner conversation I've had in a long time,” Hades pouted.

“None of what you have to talk about is dinner conversation, and that's why it's always dull,” Poseidon said resolutely.

“I should think such sweet fare,” said Hades, indicating the bowl in front of him, “would make you all that much sweeter. Alas, I am disappointed.” Kore held back a giggle.

“If you think serious is interchangeable with melodramatic, you've a lesson coming,” Demeter spat.

“I could learn from you,” Hades said solemnly. Kore lifted the nectar to her mouth to hide the smile that spread across her face.

“Dionysus!” Zeus called. Most of the guests quieted at the outburst. “Have you any wine?”

“I thought you'd never ask!” came a response from someone that Kore couldn't see.

“Demeter, would you kindly help him? I fear that he may drink it all before it arrives to safety,” Zeus said, lifting his empty goblet.

Kore heard a few suggestions slip from under her mother's breath, but was pleased to see that her mother rose and left. Poseidon also rose, “I require something I left with Amphitrite. I will be back,” he said with a small bow to Zeus.

Only a moment later his spot was taken by a woman who had imperious facial features and purple-and-gold robes. “I don't see why you couldn't let my place be up here, rather than at the other end with Aphrodite. Really! You know I can't stand her and the way she treats our son.”

“Hera, I don't believe you've met Per- uh, Kore.” Kore was once again wondering where that name was cropping up from.

The woman turned her sharp gaze to Kore and a razor-thin smile split her face. “Pleased to finally meet you.” There was something about Hera's attention that made Kore think she was being appraised. “Here's a girl who will marry sensibly,” Hera snapped at Zeus. “I still don't understand why you won't _do_ something about Aphrodite.” The name was spoken with utmost contempt.

“I am a King of Gods, not a God of Gods,” Zeus reminded her. “It is not in my power to control their natures.”

“I hear humility in that,” Hades said, clearly still playing at exasperating everyone he could get at. “Hera, that's a pretty good bargain so I wouldn't keep haggling...”

“Who asked you?” Hera spat before marching away with her head up high and cloth billowing formidably with each step.

“You just made everything that much worse,” Zeus said to Hades once his wife had left.

“I live to serve."

“Is there something on your mind?” Zeus asked impatiently. Several people turned their heads at the tone in his voice. “Never you mind!” The gods turned away, though they seemed to be aware of what was going on.

“Now that you mention it, yes,” Hades said, suddenly completely serious. Kore was rather surprised at the shift in demeanor.

“Is it appropriate for mixed company?” Zeus asked with a glance at Kore.

Hades seemed to hesitate. “No. I am sorry Kore,” added with a sober nod to her. She felt awkward and was more aware of her age and poor clothing. She smiled as best she could and took her glass of nectar as she left. She made as quick an exit as she could so that she wouldn't have to walk along the long table.

The area off the hall where the feast was taking place was much less noisy, but the goings-on were more distinct. She saw barrels being rolled into the hall, and a group of women chatting about the vintages of the wines being brought in. There was a god standing near them talking to her mother, Demeter, and he had a long white robe with sandals and a wreath of leaves around his head. Kore guessed that this was Dionysus.

She approached them, and the women smiled at her. It was not the vacant smile she was used to receiving from the nymphs, but thoughtful and full of soul. She couldn't contain her own smile at them. On closer inspection, she realized that they were each wearing little more than a single piece of cloth wrapped around their bodies and held in place by a cord that looked like it would give with a single pull. They were all as magnificently beautiful as nymphs, long hair and short, all colors of skin, and their shoulders and legs were shown off by the way the cloth was draped.

Kore noticed that her mother kept throwing them looks of disdain.

“Ah, the girl of the moment!” Dionysus said. “Need I introduce myself?” Kore shook her head, now very shy. He beamed at her. “I was just thanking your mother for the wonderful growing conditions we had this year. The wine will be absolutely perfect!” Her mother seemed nonplussed, as if it were all an accident.

“No need to thank me,” Demeter insisted. She paused before, “Kore actually took care of that piece of land, actually.”

“I did?”

“She did?”

Both Dionysus and Kore had spoken at once. The women nearby gave soft laughs.

“I don't remember doing that...” Kore said, now thoroughly confused.

Her mother cleared her throat. “Don't you remember that energy I was teaching you how to store? I used that earlier this year as a gift to him.”

“Really now?” Dionysus cried. “I had been under the impression it was fresh energy from you, Demeter. Ah well, I guess the secret's out now. I can only imagine what fresh energy would be like.” Kore felt herself blush and damned herself for it. “Oh, how rude of me. Kore, these women over here are part of my following, and are among my most devout. They are called the maeneds.”

“Hello,” one wearing a fuchsia cloth and black cord said kindly. “Thank you for the wonderful blessing on our vineyards. The yield was rather spectacular, if I may say so. My name is Damaris.” She bowed. Kore wasn't sure what to do, so she gave a small curtsy back.

“Perhaps I may do so again,” Kore said back, still shy, “um, Damaris.”

The faces of the maeneds and Dionysus were all either pleased or hopeful, but her mother had a very stern look. Kore faltered once she met her mother's gaze.

“I'll let you alone now,” Demeter said, “I'm sure you are capable of handling it from here.”

“Oh, of course... of course,” Dionysus agreed. Demeter beckoned for Kore to follow as the group they left behind got back to work again. Once out of earshot, Demeter turned on her daughter.

“I don't want you around them.”

Kore was puzzled. “Oh. But they seem like good people. Why haven't I met them bef-”

“They are _not_ good people in practice, and it would be most improper for you to be in company like that!”

“Would you please, for once, just explain!” Kore's voice had risen a little. She was sick of being left in the dark about this. “I can always ask someone else if you won't tell me now,” she added mischievously.

Demeter looked at her daughter in such a way that seemed she was searching Kore's soul. “You've been around drunks before, right?”

“Once,” Kore offered, brow furrowed.

“They are _always_ drunk. It's a religious practice; it's said they don't even need wine at times. Something about ecstasy and revelation through, well...” Demeter looked like she was struggling. “It's something about spirituality through wild nature, and it's believed that wine makes it easier to get there. Those disciples with him have probably done some pretty crazy things, so don't let their appearances fool you. I've heard of maeneds ripping men limb from limb,” she said darkly.

Kore was floored. She couldn't imagine anyone, let alone those nice people she had just met, doing anything of the sort. Then she became suspicious. “You aren't just saying that to scare me, are you?”

Demeter shook her head. “No. I really mean it. And I honestly don't want you around any of them.”

“Why did you give them my energy then?”

“It was an honest mistake which I realized only when I got back home. I will not be making that mistake again.” Kore had never seen her mother like this. Perhaps this was actually good advice...

“I'm going back in to the feast. The dancing will probably start soon, too.” Demeter sighed. “Don't wander too far and don't talk to strangers. I'll take that,” she added as she took the near-empty cup of nectar.

She left Kore there to roll her eyes at the pointless advice her mother had just given her. Everyone was a stranger at first, and it was mostly thanks to her mother. Kore tried to find the nearest exit so she could get a little fresh air. She walked along, and started climbing stairs she saw near where she had come in. Intuition told her that this area was not private dwellings, so she confidently kept going. The stairs spiraled to her right and she kept going up up up.

The stairs stopped at a small landing, and there was an open door there. Kore smiled at what she saw beyond that. There was a courtyard surrounded by the sheltered walkway she now stood in. There were pillars on the inner side of the walkway, and windows at even intervals along the outside. Kore walked all the way around the courtyard, noting stairs exactly opposite the ones she came up. She then stepped into the courtyard, that had a small spring in the middle, edged by six delicate ornamental fruit trees. The sun was already below the walls of the Olympian palaces, and little bugs with lights had come out. It looked magical even for a dwelling of gods.

The grass was soft and cool, somewhat long, with fallen twigs sticking up here and there. Kore walked right to the spring. She saw her reflection in it, and after deciding she didn't look all that bad, she took off her boots and stuck her feet in the cold water. Little bright fish swam up and darted away, sometimes forgetting they had done so and repeated the routine. When Kore tired of watching them and could no longer feel her feet, she stepped out and dried her feet on the grass by wiping them. She put her boots on and with one wistful glance back at the trees, she went back down the stairs.

Music had begun to play in the hall, and when she got there the long table had been cleared away. People were dancing in pairs or alone, and there were those who stood to the sides to merely watch and engage in conversation. Kore saw that the maeneds were serving wine with smiles and laughter off on the far side of the hall. Her mother nodded to her from nearby, but did not come over; she was talking to a woman in a long cloak with the hood drawn over her head.

Kore continued on, contenting herself to walk around and be as invisible as possible. Several people still turned their heads as she walked by, looking like they wanted to speak, but they only smiled. It was starting to annoy Kore a little bit that they were somewhat ignoring her at her own party. Perhaps her birthday was a mere excuse to party. If so, she told herself, she would not begrudge them that.

The music died down for a moment as the musicians shouted drunkenly at each other about what song they should play, until someone in the crowd yelled a suggestion that seemed agreeable to the musicians. Just as the starting notes echoed through the hall, Kore heard someone near her say, “Might I have a word with you?”

She turned, a little surprised, and saw Hades there, looking rather expectant. “Um, yes, I suppose...”

“Very well. Follow me,” he said with a tiny smile. He led her over to a wall and procured two glasses of wine. “Care for a drink?”

Kore blushed. “As long as mother doesn't see...” she said as she accepted the goblet. He took a sip from his.

“Surely your mother gives you wine?” Hades seemed puzzled.

“It's usually beer or barley water. But mother was a little displeased with Dionysus when I asked her about him,” Kore explained. She tasted the wine. It was dark red but perfectly clear, smelling strongly of a bouquet of flowers and tasting sharp and sweet and bitter all at once. There was a dryness to it that she could have done without, though.

“No doubt she spoke to you about their spiritual practices?”

“Yes... it...um, is it true that they rip people limb from limb...?”

Hades frowned for a moment. “That's a bit of an exaggeration, even for her. She was probably just listening to the rumor mill. I don't recall receiving anyone at my gates who had died at the hands of the maeneds, though there may be truth to the fact that there has been serious injury. No, it's a very active and wild mysticism so that when you practice right you feel drunk on spirituality, not in control and totally in control at the same time. Dionysus's Principle is sacred to many who may not even know it, and trodden on by simple partying that gives the disciples a bad name.” Hades paused, still thoughtful. “The maeneds that are here are probably his daughters with mortal consorts. The practice is not recommended without an initiate to supervise.”

“What do they worship, then?” Kore asked.

“That's a good question, but not one that I would dare to answer here. Perhaps another time.”

Kore was disappointed but would not let this opportunity to learn slip through her fingers. “What were you talking about when you mentioned that feast with Tanaltus, or Tatulus, or something like that?”

“Tantalus?” Hades offered. “It's a rather gruesome tale for a young and delicate goddess such as yourself,” he teased.

“Aw tell, tell!” Kore insisted.

He chuckled. “It is gruesome though. There was a man a long time ago – a mortal – that we thought was rather enjoyable, and he invited us to a dinner as a sign of goodwill. He killed his son and served him up to us. Your mother didn't realize until too late, and took a bite out of his shoulder.”

Kore gasped. “No! My mother?”

“Don't tell her I told you,” Hades said with a smile. “I had a fun time thinking up a proper punishment for that, and I'll tell you that it wasn't nearly as harsh as some of the things that your mother suggested. She could have made a wonderful Ruler of the Underworld if I hadn't been born,” he jested. Kore laughed again.

“What about that task that you mentioned?”

“Curious, aren't you?” Hades asked, smiling when Kore nodded enthusiastically. “That one, unfortunately, I must keep to myself for now. It is a serious nature and is between me and my brothers... for now.”

Kore was again disappointed, but thought of another one as she took another sip of wine. “What about that name that everyone called me? Per... serpo... um, Proseph-”

“Persephone.” Hades took a long swig of his drink. Kore could see the wheels turning in his head and knew he was torn. “It's the name that everyone had believed your mother was to give you.”

“She never corrected them before now?” Kore thought it was rather odd.

“That's your mother for you.”

“Persephone is a nice name. I wish it were mine...” Kore said. There was something unreadable in Hades' eyes.

“Kore!” Kore jumped and turned around. Several other people had looked around too, and she saw her mother coming over. Kore realized that she was holding the wine out in plain sight. She wasn't sure if she felt comfortable with Hades witnessing what would inevitably come next. Thankfully her mother lowered her voice considerably for the next part.

“I told you not to drink that!”

“I thought you told me to stay away from those people,” said Kore, feigning innocence.

“Ah, that would be my fault, sister,” added Hades, covering for her quickly and whisking the goblet away from Kore. “I thought it would be a nice thing to do.”

“You know how I feel about those people,” Demeter spat.

“Yes, but I wasn't going to assume your daughter felt the same way,” Hades said stiffly.

“What's going on here?” came a light voice. All three turned and saw a woman in flattering clothes and elegant hair, with a made-up face barely masking impudent curiosity.

“Aphrodite,” both Hades and Demeter said with fake happiness.

“And Kore! How lovely to fi-i-inally meet you,” said Aphrodite with arms outstretched to hug Kore. Kore accepted the embrace awkwardly, being swept into musky, fruity scent. “So,” she said as she pulled away from Kore, “I haven't seen you two talk in a long time. On speaking terms again?”

Demeter was not hiding the ugly look on her face very well. “Hades is forgetting his limits.”

Aphrodite gasped, “Now, now, Hades! Don't ruin Demeter's first Olympian party in such a long time.” Hades also had a dark look overcoming his face.

“I know my limits better than most,” he said.

“Really? I always find it is possible to win more ground, don't you, when you're open about yourself...” Aphrodite hinted nastily. Kore didn't feel like this was going in a good direction.

“Especially as concerns legs,” Demeter agreed sarcastically.

“Only if they're good enough,” Aphrodite shot back.

“Aphrodite, please...” Hades said, in a surprise move of attempting to keep both sides from going for each other's throats.

“Don't start, Hades,” Aphrodite said with malice, “You don't know the first thing about politics.”

Kore sensed a wave of cold off him. “It doesn't matter, does it, because all your worshipers are _mine_ in the end.” With that, Hades turned and left, quickly disappearing into the crowd. With one last glare at Demeter Aphrodite left, presumably to go find him.

Kore waited for her mother to speak.

“After presents, we are leaving.”

“I get presents?”


	5. The Horror

**Part I**

On the way back to their secluded home, Demeter helped Kore sort through the presents she had received. Many had given her presents that were perhaps a little too rich for her taste, but she didn't mind most of the gifts because they were, after all, gifts. Her mother even seemed to be in good spirits. They stepped off the carriage once they were home, and her mother helped her carry everything in to her room.

"Off to bed with you, Kore. It's been a long night and we have an early morning tomorrow," her mother said as they brought in the last of the gifts. Kore did not argue with her, being as tired as she was anyway.

In the morning, Kore was disgruntled about having to return to work so quickly. The whole day was spent enriching the earth near farms, storing energy, ensuring water sources were healthy, and greeting nymphs who brought news of their forests and fields which Demeter and Kore did not have time for on that day. After the hard work was done, the evening was spent working in the kitchen's garden and cooking for dinner.

Supper was fresh bread and fruit and thick yogurt. There was honey and cold milk to go with the fare, and they ate in a pleasant silence. Kore, however, was dwelling on the feeling that maybe this was less than she was made for, but knew it was out of the question to ask her mother for more freedom. She thought back to her first sip of ambrosia and the look her mother had cast her way. The hours following supper were also quiet, and Kore took the opportunity to look through her gifts once again.

Hephaestus had given her a small brooch shaped like a lily with red enamel, and it was as beautiful as anything her mother had worn to the party. From Zeus and Hera was a pretty chiton made of crepe cloth and dyed violet with a tiny geometric pattern along the hem. There was also a himation to go with it that was made of heavy wool and dyed black. Aphrodite had given her a few lovely ribbons of all different colors for her hair.

Among the other gifts were a beautifully woven set of baskets, figurines, jewelry of gold and copper and silver, perfumes and oils, a small lacquer box, and a thick blanket that had fantastic beasts woven in between gorgeous designs.

Everything was simply so wonderful that Kore was afraid to use anything in fear of destroying it. She tried on the jewelry and the clothing, set up the figurines on her windowsill, stacked the perfumes into the lacquer box and put it along with the oils in one of the smaller baskets. The blanket was rolled up at the end of her bed, and once everything else was away neatly, she brought the empty baskets out to the kitchen.

"What's this?" asked Demeter as she turned around from what she was doing at the hearth.

"I just thought we could use these," Kore suggested. Her mother was silent for a moment and then, "They're too nice; I simply couldn't use them. Put them in the sitting room, would you Kore?" Kore acquiesced.

"What are we doing tomorrow?" Kore asked her mother as she went back into the kitchen.

"I'm going to work in the still room, so you can go and play if you want. Just stay with the nymphs."

Kore nodded and went back to her room to go to sleep.

**Part II**

With a page in his ledger turned to a certain name of Narcissus, Hades confirmed the man's death to be what he remembered – he had made a note of the flower which had grown from the blood. So it was his; he hadn't been sure. It was only after meeting Kore that Hades was sorry he had intentionally not given the young goddess a present. It seemed cruel now to take out a long-time family feud on such a sweet goddess.

He also remembered with relish how helpful Kore had been as he created dissension in the ranks of his siblings. Now, being remorseful of his capital offense of not bearing gifts, he had come to an ingenious solution: give the goddess of Spring a new flower. Hades was pretty sure that the Narcissus flower did not grow beyond the area where the namesake was felled by his own hand. He was also sure that it would require an intrusion beyond his realm in order to place them in the right spot.

The details lay in figuring out where elusive Demeter had hidden her daughter from prying eyes. His source had refused to give him the location, but had hinted it was near the sea. _Fancy that. In this part of the world she is near the sea._

Hades pondered this obstacle, and decided right away that doing a search by chariot would be a last resort. It was undignified for him to be up in arms over a belated gift. Somebody _must_ know where they were. He remembered another source who could very easily help him. One who had long ago sworn her allegiance to him.

As soon as he had thought of it, she appeared before him with a heavy-looking himation draped about her body and the hood tossed back. She carried a slender staff with a flame flickering at the top.

"Hecate," said Hades, more to himself than as a greeting. She bowed her head silently, the flame throwing the wrinkles on her face into sharp relief.

"I felt that you would need my services," she said with a little smile. "Because you just can't seem to find young ones to do the job right."

"Xenophon told me everything I wanted to know," Hades returned simply, closing his ledger resolutely.

"But she didn't nose around enough, did she? Oh, I thought so. That's what you need me for," Hecate laughed. She drew a piece of highly-polished silver from the folds of her cloak and set it in mid-air as though resting it on a solid wall. With a tap from the top of the staff, a vision appeared of a forest. "That is directly above us, so I'll leave you to it. Unless …"

Hades looked away from the mirror. "Unless what?"

"Unless you'd also like me to consult the stars about your courtship," Hecate said wickedly.

Hades scoffed, "I'm fine, thank you."

"It's quite popular with young ladies right now."

"Goodbye, Hecate," he said forcibly before she cackled and disappeared into thin air. He turned his attention to the vision on the mirror, and focused on making it move north. He had noticed that when Demeter and Kore left, they took the south-west gate. The trees and rocky coasts and deep-blue sea flew past, and Hades slowed only when he saw traces of divinity in the vision. Suddenly he was surrounded by a flash of divinity that was brilliant white and gold.

Hades found his consciousness drawn back to his workroom. There stood a woman who was really truly _built_ , with sultry features and clear, shining eyes. Aphrodite.

"Hello, o mighty one," her words dripping with sarcasm.

"Hello, empty-headed one. For your sake, I hope you are come to me with more than trivial matters," Hades warned. "You are in my domain, after all."

"My domain does not have boundaries. For all you know, my domain is here and now," she said with a smirk. She had not taken his bait.

Hades took a deep breath, trying to ignore this annoying twist. "Kindly arrive to the point of your visit."

"Your mistake of exposing me to censure while in society."

"There were hardly four people listening."

"Take into account, Hades, that four sets of ears on Olympus inevitably turns into all ears."

Hades knew she was right. But … "You know I consider such a matter as trivial."

"Hear my warning." The sharp words seemed terrible coming from a lovely visage. Hades remained silent, raising his brow in an attempt to feign amusement. "If this happens again, if you dare underestimate my power, you will find your personal matters to wax complicated. Your Divine Tasks will follow."

Hades stood swiftly, enraged at her gall. "I will express myself as I see fit. You will never have power in the realm of the dead. You will never have power over me. I will never be your subject, just as you will never be mine. Get out!"

Aphrodite gave a sharp laugh and turned to leave. Hades felt something sinister linger in her wake, but sat back down and continued to focus on the vision. A mist of shimmering divinity flooded the whole mirror in less than a moment after he took the search up again. It was pear-colored, and Hades had a feeling that this was what he was looking for. He followed it through a glade, where a copper-colored divinity joined the first one.

The vision took him through fields and forests and over a creek and small pond, and finally there was a meadow with a small cottage. _There you are._ He didn't need to go closer in order to know that he was in the right place: he had recognized his sister's imprint on the land already and now he just needed to find a place to grow his flower.

He decided that he would continue this work under the dark of the night in the Upperworld. He called a ghostly servant to prepare his chariot, and shrouded himself in a traveling cloak of vibrant purple. Sweeping out of the room, he passed down grand halls and corridors of his palace, beyond cold sitting rooms with high ceilings and painted walls with stiff, silk curtains. He exited from a small deliberating room and into the long throne room, designed at first to hold festivities and delegations where now a lone god walked to his awaiting chariot in silence.

The two horses were completely still in the presence of Master. They were gelded but proud and tall Niseans – blue roan and black – with leather harness and tackle. Hades felt an empty sense of grandeur and power as he took the still reins in one hand and placed himself steadily on the chariot. He put on his Helmet that was waiting on the bottom of his chariot. Almost as soon as he gripped the reins firmly in both hands the steeds were in a brisk trot. Without need of a word from Master, they were soon at a perfectly synchronized gallop.

Suddenly, with a great leap, the chariot and god were lifted into the air by the regal horses, and up they went into seemingly endless sky of the underworld. Hades waited until his surroundings darkened in order to recite the words that would open up the ground and let him go bounding into the realm of the living. The horses snorted loudly when the Upperworld air hit their nostrils and Hades closed his eyes as it washed over him.

Certainly the new surroundings were a shock; the air had more substance and wasn't as still as Hades would've liked. The light from the moon hit in patches splattered across the ground. His chariot flew across the land, still in the air, but close to the ground for stealth; Hades knew that if the moon was out, then Selene was out. And if Selene was out, then Artemis was out. His Helmet might cover him, but with the horses and chariot, the ripples in the air would be obvious.

He retraced the path given to him in the vision, remembering every twist and turn. The mountain's foothills he skirted brought back a faint recollection of Aphrodite's brief visit. Beyond the rocky crags the woods grew denser, and he knew he was drawing nigh. The ground looked more and more lush, and small groves with ponds appeared in the corners of his sight. Hades pulled on the reins ever so slightly and the horses began to slow, touching down on earth little by little.

Hades let the chariot come to a full halt before alighting on the ground. He slid the Helmet from his head and stuck to the shadows as he made his way to his destination. Another divine presence was nearby but totally still; no threat there.

Pacing, he scouted the ground for the best spot to place his gift – somewhere unnoticeable to Demeter, but a spot where Persephone could find it without fail. Luck! Nestled between trees was a knob of long, soft grass that had been flattened and arranged; traces of coppery divinity sat like dew on the blades. The area around was also trampled, probably by multiple pairs of feet: nymphs. The knob looked a fitting throne for the young goddess.

Hades drew close to the knob and knelt reverently before it, feeling for a good place off to the side. His hand hit a spot where the soil was soft and tree roots did not grow into that part of the ground; a deep impression which had once been part of a pond. Hades conjured the memory of Narcissus.

Starting with both hands placed on the ground, he slowly lifted his hands as though drawing the blood back to the surface from his realm. It took great concentration for the Lord of the Dead to create a living thing. Visions of decay and putrescence. Insects feeding on carcasses. Transmutation of the substance of life; through death.

When Hades finished the first flower, he made another and another, until nearly thirty flowers of different colors covered the ground. He wondered if it wasn't overkill, but felt that it would be appreciated nonetheless.

A glow was cast over some flowers just as Hades began to walk away; the sun had started to rise. Hades hurried to his chariot and hid it out of sight of the knob. His actions were timely: just as he perched himself in a tree nearby a few nymphs rushed by, laughing and tumbling about.

**Part III**

Kore let the nymphs go ahead of her on this day. Something felt different, but she didn't feel threatened yet. The weather was lovely and she took time to enjoy it in partial solitude. A cry rose up from ahead and she rushed forward to see what it was. The nymphs were chattering excitedly around the sitting-place and they hushed as she drew near.

"What is all this?" Kore demanded imperiously. The nymphs moved aside and revealed the object of fascination: a throng of flowers previously unknown. This afforded the group much entertainment, though Kore reached ennui much faster than the others: perhaps it was _because_ of them. She sent all the nymphs away under the pretense of telling others. Once alone, she was again enthralled by this new species. She plucked one to inspect closer.

It looked like a face. A face of petals, perhaps framed by hair swept forward in the wind, or a head-scarf that sculpted the curves of the petals. She stared at it for a long time, seeing a face of both sadness and beauty, selfishness and reflection. A face turned inward; a face turned outward.

The reverie was broken when she noticed the movements of a dark mass on the edge of the clearing. She regarded him warily as Hades emerged. She held up the flower.

"Did you have something to do with this?"

Hades bowed his head. "I instantly regretted not having something to give to a like-minded individual. I know I would have wanted gifts." She couldn't have named it, but she did enjoy the wry humor. Kore stood up and gave him her classic smile.

A tree branch snapped off and flung itself between them, quashing the flowers.

The moment of stunned silence was brief before the rest of the tree came free of the ground. The roots showered dirt like the sky did the rain. When Kore turned to shelter herself, she caught a glimpse of a monster. She turned back to look and she saw nothing but the trees that were being torn apart; she didn't hear Hades calling her.

He took her up into his arms and ran for the chariot. Just as he had set foot into the chariot, the ground underneath opened up into a chasm and swallowed them. The horses were quick to react to their master's commands and the entourage swooped gracefully down, embracing the fall as though it was of their volition.

Up above, the ground began to close and trees were shredded to pieces. Once escape was ensured, Hades looked back over his shoulder and saw a monster. He looked away. The chariot was caught up in a blast of air and they were all sent reeling until they skidded on ground. The air was filled with debris and Hades kept still in the roaring darkness.

"What happened?" cried Kore. She felt as though she was suffocating; her throat closing on her own panic.

"Shh..." Hades said soothingly. He was trembling too, but he wouldn't let that get in the way of dealing promptly and effectively with the situation. It seemed as though the foreboding power was beginning to take action against the gods. Kore started to sob and Hades hugged her close, gently stroking her hair. It calmed him down, too.

The rumbling halted slowly, and after the last of the debris fell Hades spoke, "We're fine. Don't worry. Once I am absolutely certain it is safe, I will escort you back to your mother. For now, though, please let me bring you to my palace. You are sure to be safe there."

He waited for her to answer. She nodded with some hesitation, and Hades took the reigns of the horses in a tighter grip. He did not drive the chariot so fast as to upset her again.

In the palace, he supported her as she walked weak-kneed. He led her to a smaller, comfortable sitting room in which she could rest and gain her bearings. She settled onto a lavishly-cushioned divan and he set a stack of books next to her.

He set a hand on her shoulder as he said, "I will be back in a little while. Make yourself at home in this room, but I don't recommend wandering around just yet."

Hades rushed back to the site where the attack had occurred. Using senses both physical and supernatural, he felt along the border between his realm and the realms of his brothers. Where the three realms intersected, a rift was poking through. Hades was startled.

The sheer command of reality would need to be staggering to tear into the realm of the gods as this entity had. His brothers would have to know as soon as he could get word to them.

Something shifted and Hades felt pain course through his body. He let a disgraceful shriek out; it had been eons since the last time he had felt this. But almost as soon as it started, it was over. He knew then, that it was not yet safe to leave, and he would have to tell everyone he could – confidence in his brothers was a luxury the god of riches would not afford.

**Part IV**

Kore stared at the books Hades had left her. She picked one up and gingerly opened it to a random page. Books were nigh unheard-of: it was rare to come across even a scroll, but this...

The writing was neat enough that she could pick out a few words. She felt embarrassed and even a little ashamed of her inability.

Time passed quickly while she worked on deciphering words she didn't know. The words she sounded out began to form phrases, and the phrases a story. Or something like that; this writing seemed to describe a large fish that subsisted on the smallest creatures.

As she read a few lines of text back out loud to herself, something moved in the corner of her eye. She snapped the book shut and looked up in alarm. It was an old crone, and Kore would swear this woman had been at her party. "Hello?" Kore said.

"Oh hello, young goddess. Are you enjoying the book?" The voice was crackling with age and hidden power. Kore nodded shyly.

"But my, you're smart! It's quite a read, as I recall. I wouldn't have guessed that Demeter taught you to read."

Kore bit back the obvious question and replied, "Only a little."

"Kore, let me introduce myself. I am Hecate, goddess of the crossroads, witchcraft, and ancient wisdom." Kore stood up at once and bowed respectfully. Demeter had not forgotten to tell her daughter about this important goddess. "But you... you may call me Thia!" _Auntie?_ Kore bowed again, now smiling.

"Now, tell me, how did you end up here?" Hecate asked as she guided Kore back to sitting on the divan.


	6. What To Do

**Part I**

Hades studied each deity's face after he told them. Most were keeping a stoic facade, but the tension was there. Hecate was the first to speak.

"What should we do?"

"Someone needs to cross," was his immediate answer. Silence. He knew this meant no one wanted to go. He was partly relieved that his duties exempted him, and partly guilty for feeling that he would be responsible for putting someone in harm's way. Hecate stood, and he knew her meaning.

"I've always been close with Hestia. I will work on this right away." She bowed and left.

Once she was gone, Hades waved everyone else's dismissal. He needed to look for that mortal prophet who had once said a curious thing during judgment; something which was now beginning to make sense.

First, though, he had to get Kore settled in for the duration of this problem.

**Part II**

It held a different kind of elegance than Olympus did, thought Kore as she glanced at Hades's palace from the grounds. The majesty and foreboding darkness seemed to dignify one another. When Demeter had told her daughter of the Underworld, she had described it as a terrible place crawling with undesirables and personifications of evil. This was nothing like that.

The palace sat in stillness. The pallor of the atmosphere couldn't hide hints of color in the stone; suggestions of pink and pale blue, mint green and fawn.

Kore would never have guessed that that the landscape would vary the way it did in this place. Hillocks and rivulets dotted the grounds closest to the palace, growing into larger forms further away. There was white sand at the banks of the wending rivers; the drive before the palace's main entry was paved with black gravel. The effect was pleasant.

The trickle of water couldn't drown the clamor coming from afar, however. Kore couldn't make it out clearly anyway.

It took Kore a while to circumnavigate the palace. She found it was a rather box-y structure, and the setting was uniform save for the slightest changes in elevation.

When she entered the palace by the main way she fully appreciated the barren splendor of the Throne Room. By counting the balconies she saw that its ceiling rose to four floors. She wove between pillars carved into figures, passed by _objets d'art_ displayed on pedestals, and only paused every so often to take account of the overall effect. She avoided the dais which was currently bare of any throne.

Kore chose a staircase at random, opting to skip the parlors around the Throne Room. The first floor appeared to be spacious sitting rooms fashioned in a manner similar to the Throne Room, yet alarmingly different in the styles of the trappings themselves. She decided to ask about them later: at present she was curiously afraid of examining them.

The second and third floor appeared to be comprised of apartments all splendidly done over in luxury, complete with lavatories, bed rooms, parlors, and dining halls. Kore was stunned – surely this palace wasn't large enough for that? After making an excursion to compare the outside's dimensions to the inside's, Kore was certain that the palace was an oddity.

The fourth floor was partially sealed off, as Hades said it would be, and it was difficult for Kore to find the stairs that would take her up to the rest of the palace. To her astonishment, there were three floors between the fourth and the one on which her room was located! Every door she opened contained apartments in the fashion of those on the second and third floors.

Like the fourth floor, most of the eighth was closed off, so Kore could only go to the room given to her. She felt silly for thinking her situation grand, having now seen the entirety of it. Rather than ending her exploration, she began her ascent to the next floor through a narrow stairwell.

It was apparent that this was the last floor. The ninth was a floor of both grandeur and necessity. Everything was muddled together – stacks of books and scrolls next to stores of food and magicked ingredients; old furniture covered by bundles of new supplies; elegant mirrors reflecting clutter and ephemera; Hades bent over an enormous ledger, nearly pulling his own hair out.

"Yes?" he snapped without looking up. Kore felt her heart jolt all the way down to her stomach. She stammered an apology and began to leave.

"Kore!" Another jolt. She looked at him and saw that he seemed surprised as well. "I didn't realize you were here. I was expecting someone else," he explained as he let go of his hair, the black tresses waving back into place, and straightened his posture.

"Is everything alright?" he asked. Kore managed a nervous smile and nod.

"I was just exploring the castle," she said.

"Oh good," he said semi-interestedly. Kore felt a twinge of disappointment: she was used to having a very _involved_ caretaker. And she wanted his genuine approval.

"May I go into the apartments?"

"As long as no one is in residence," he said, already looking back at the ledger. She tried a different tact.

"May I look around here?"

"Not now." His curt, immediate reply made her feel childish and stupid for asking.

"Alright. I will see you later, then," she said quietly.

"Yes. Later," he said, quickly raising his eyes to acknowledge her as she left.

Kore went back to her room as fast as possible to hide her face in a pillow. She knew, of course, that it was such a small thing that Hades would forget, but she already felt forgotten and lonely.

**Part III**

Demeter had a moment of respite in her morning routine. Usually, Kore spent this time with her mother, so Demeter was mildly surprised when Kore did not make an appearance. Still, Demeter let it go, not wanting to upset the tentative peace she had just found with her beloved daughter. Instead, she contented herself with preparing the still room on her own, laying out the clay jars and grinding stones she would need the next day. When the sun had moved past directly overhead, Demeter went back to a field some leagues away from the home in order to resume enriching the last of the crops before the harvest.

However, when she returned to her home and there were no signs of nymphs or Kore, she began to worry. The feeling that something was wrong could no longer be ignored. Demeter tried a few bites of honeyed bread before she threw it back on her plate and left the house.

Demeter didn't have to go far to find nymphs cowering in their own niches. Their chatter was absent and left a cold void in the air. The chatter of the animals and insects was reluctant at best. Finally, she stopped at a small pool of water in a glen. There, a nymph was sobbing.

"What happened?" Demeter asked in a severe voice. The nymph gave her a look such as Demeter had never seen on this sort of creature. So desolate. The nymph shook her head and cried harder.

"Where is Kore?"

The nymph wailed in response.

"Are you responsible?"

The nymph crumpled under the pressure of sobs that wracked her body. Demeter felt an ire rising from deep within and she called a curse upon the nymph. Under the blaring sun, the glen was cased in the coldest ice the goddess could summon.

But what made Demeter want to cry as the nymph had was the gash in the earth nearby that smelled of evil.

**Part IV**

Hades knocked on the door. He did not get a response so he pushed the door open slowly and looked around the corner. On the far side of the room, Kore was sound asleep on the bed. Bright gray light illuminated the room from the tall windows, and the floor had been heated as per his orders. He went and knelt next to the young goddess and reached out to nudge her on her shoulder.

He was astonished to see irritation and annoyance on her face. "There's some food for you on its way here," he told her, "or would you rather eat with me in my study?"

Kore shook her head and looked away.

Hades paused before deciding to ask about it. "Other than not being home, what's wrong, Kore?"

Kore shook her head again. He thought for a moment about all their interactions that day. She had gone from frightened to happy while settling in. She had seemed curious and bright when she had interrupted him earlier. Now she was upset. After a moment of consideration, he thought he knew what it might have been. He stood up and took a step back to give her space.

"I was busy earlier, but I really wouldn't mind showing you the study now. I cannot guarantee that I'll be able to do so later. You can still have your meal brought in, if you wish." With that, he gave her what he hoped was an encouraging smile, and left.

Perhaps it had been as encouraging as Hades had intended, for not too long after, Kore sat primly at the table in his study as she waited for the last of servants to finish laying out the food. She noticed that along with the sort of food which she was used to eating was set out alongside fare similar to what she had had at the gathering on Olympus. Hades also waited quietly, staring thoughtfully at the empty places further down.

"Others will be joining us soon," he said.

"Who?"

"Ones whom I count as friends."

"Like Hecate?" she asked hopefully. Hades felt a smile twitch his lips.

"I do not know if she will make it to this meal, but there is a place reserved for her."

Kore counted to settings. There were five in addition to the one she counted as Hecate's. "Who else?"

"Patience," Hades said gently, not looking at her.

Kore felt like a silly little girl again for the second time that day. She thought, ruefully, that he was succeeding where Demeter had failed: reigning Kore in. She began to resent him for it. At least the servants were not witness to it, since they had finished their task already.

**Part V**

As Hades had indicated, there was a solidifying presence between the realms. This exploration would take most of Hecate's considerable skill.

She had drawn the circle and the protective symbols as necessary, and had lit the specially-prepared incense. Her staff was planted at the perimeter of the circle while she sat facing it in the center.

Only a part of the entity had emerged into their realm. Without letting it get an inkling of her identity, she tried to determine the size and shape. It was so large it was nearly shapeless: changes in its vast expanse came after long stretches, and Hecate could not delineate any symmetry.

When she was about to give up looking for a way around it, everything turned to chaos and Hecate's perception lurched. She now felt as though she was on the periphery of an enormous gyroscope. She passed through realms and aeons so foreign to her that they might have poisoned her had she lingered. Once she realized she was in a familiar place again, she was presented with an entirely unsettling scene.

A god she had seen only in passing was writhing in agony for some reason. Hecate could not shake the feeling that she had something to do with it.

The god stopped moving, and Hecate knew he would never move again.

But she knew that this was a close as she would get to where she had wanted to be, and she would not tempt providence. With little more than a strong desire, Hecate began to wend her way to her sister of the hearth.


	7. Words of Advice

**Part I**

Demeter wasn't sure who would be the most willing to help her find her daughter; of those who were willing, who would put personal interests aside? She did want to risk losing Kore the moment after she was sure her daughter was safe and sound. The first thing that occurred to her was that the lesser deities may be more tractable – especially those who had previously expressed desires to win the goddess over. The second thing that occurred to her was that lesser deities had poor secret-keeping skills. Those who would tell Demeter what they knew would have no qualms in spreading word to others that Kore was missing.

After being unable to determine the exact cause of the marred earth, she decided it best to chose one deity – or a few – she could trust to at least keep a lookout. Only three came to mind, and two were rather dubious gambles: Hestia, Artemis, Athene. As far as Athene was concerned, the goddess of strategy, warfare, and wisdom _could_ be helpful, but she was also very close to her father. In addition, Demeter always had the feeling that she was rather looked down upon by Athene. Artemis may be a safer bet, but the two goddesses generally kept their distance from each other. When they did meet, they were respectful. Artemis did have a good relationship to her father, but she would be able to see Demeter's need for discretion … probably.

Hestia was probably her best choice in terms of allies, but the goddess of the Hearth chose to avoid constant contact with most Olympians. Therefore, Hestia may not be the most strategically-placed friend Demeter had, even if she was the closest.

Upon further reflection, Demeter felt a little trepidation that she was evaluating those around her according to usefulness. It made her feel bad, but she justified it as being absolutely necessary in this case.

Donning a cloak, she set off immediately to find Hestia. Traveling in the guise of an old woman, she made her way to her elder sister over a week-long period. She threw off the pretense once she arrived at the foot of Hestia's sacred mountain without incident, and hastened to climb.

Hestia received Demeter with her soft cordiality. Offered a chalice of simple water, Demeter took her place next to her sister in front of the Hearth. Demeter had thought the matter over and decided that even if she was not conveniently located closer to the locus of divinity, her sister could offer valuable advice.

“You are very troubled,” Hestia pointed out without any preamble. “It is a loss.”

The name of her daughter was all that came from the mouth of Demeter. When Hestia made no additional comment, Demeter sipped the water and continued, “She is missing.” Demeter broke down in tears when she heard the strangled tone in her own voice.

Hestia had the good grace to look surprised – though in truth she wasn't – and she waited for her little sister to calm herself. “Does anyone else know?” she asked.

“Only the nymphs … I hope.” Hestia waited for the rest of what she knew Demeter was going to say. “Of course this would happen after she became known to all Olympus! This is Zeus's fault! And she didn't know any better so naturally she would talk to anyone and everyone. Hades and Dionysius …” Demeter snorted. “I'd ask them, but I wouldn't want to give them the satisfaction of thinking I can't control my own daughter.”

“But you can't,” was the sage reply, “and that is not your fault.” Demeter looked as though her sister had slapped her. “Did it occur to you that perhaps she ran away?”

Demeter now looked aghast. “Why would she do that?”

Hestia shrugged. “It is merely a possibility. I think you may need to estimate how much you know your daughter. Every god and goddess came away from the celebration with the impression that she is intelligent in many ways and charming to a fault. It was said that she would live up to her true name. Perhaps she has gone off to do just that!”

“How dare you!” shrieked Demeter. She stood and threw the chalice at the fire, making it sizzle and go out in places. Hestia seemed unperturbed, further rankling Demeter. “You sit here, safe in your little cave, and presume to tell me how to raise my child? You, who have never born any single child! You, incapable of being a mother!”

Knowing the last was a particularly cruel thing to say, she turned to leave.

“And yet you came to me,” called Hestia. There was no anger or spite in her voice. “I can only wonder at your desperation. Is there no one you trust? Ah, there is not,” she said, seeing the look on Demeter's face. “It must be difficult to choose between those who would both help you and hurt you, and those who would never truly harm you but never truly help you.” Hestia paused, knowing she had hit the reason for her sister's visit. “I will do what I can, dear sister, but I suggest widening your gaze. Have you considered Hephaestus?”

“I hadn't,” conceded Demeter. In fact, now that she thought about it, he was probably the next best ally. Wouldn't he understand her reluctance to trust other Olympians?

She left Hestia's abode with conviction.

 

**Part II**

Hecate struggled against currents of the spirit world. Although she was the deity most in tune with it, there was no god or goddess to truly preside over this place. All the roads shifted if she looked from her path, and there was no aid for navigation. The world of the in-between had brought divinity to its knees before.

All Hecate had to work with was a crystal which glowed faintly when a door opened. The world of spirits was a series of portals, perpetually opening and closing, and at times Hecate thought she glimpsed a hearth fire from afar. But she could not go in a straight line. She did not know how long it would take to reach her destination – which may not be a problem, as time didn't work in a normal way here.

At last count, she had passed through four portals, and seemed no closer to the end.

 

**Part III**

A goddess walked into the dining room as Kore grew impatient. The goddess had a broad build and skin as black as coal, and was slightly obscured by a cloud of darkness. Just behind her stalked an elderly-looking god; barefoot, silent, and naked but for the short fabric around his hips to preserve modesty.

Hades stood and opened his arms in welcome. “My friends.” The two bowed in response. “Please, be seated.”

The goddess sat to his left, and the god sat next to Kore. To the latter's astonishment, the cloud obscuring the goddess moved over to the place next to her.

“Kore, allow me to present Nyx, the goddess of night,” Hades said, gesturing to the goddess, and then to the translucent cloud, “her consort Erebus, god of darkness, and Thanatos,” he finished, indicating the god next to Kore. Kore gave each a polite nod, though she wasn't sure how to address Erebus. As she turned her head, she saw something shimmer out of the corner of her eye; the air around Thanatos shimmered like wings, and youth replaced age in his countenance. When she looked directly at him, he again appeared in the guise of wizened old man she had first seen.

“May we start in?” Nyx inquired. Hades gave a nod. Kore had some time to take a little food, and then there were two more arrivals. A large serpent slithered along, and as it wound and turned, its scales shifted colors. Behind that, a male god walk: He, like Thanatos, was primarily nude. There was a long skin of some sort tied at his waist, and it trailed along on the ground after him. Rather than standing this time, Hades waved them in.

“Kore, allow me to introduce Ophion, one of my forebears, and Hydros, god of ancient waters.” Yes; even Kore in all her naivety could tell that she was in the presence of very, very old gods. Ophion, the serpent took his place beside Thanatos, and Hydros placed himself next to Erebus.

Before Hades could settle back in, in rushed a person familiar to Kore: Xenophon! Kore beamed at her, and was pleased when the offering was returned.

“Hecate will be preoccupied for quite some time, but I didn't want her share of food to go to waste,” Xenophon explained as she plopped down at the end of the table opposite Hades. Kore looked around the table surreptitiously to ascertain how the other dinner guests handled this lively breach of etiquette. She was glad to find that most were unperturbed or faintly amused – save Hades.

“I didn't realize you knew about this gathering,” Hades said, with a measure of disapproval.

“Let her stay, boy,” came a soft growl. Kore hadn't seen anyone speak, but she saw that the others were looking to Ophion the serpent. “If she wants, she can have my share too, for I took care to eat prior to arrival.”

“Very thoughtful. Could it be due to our new friend?” Thanatos's voice was much more gentle than Kore would have anticipated.

“Precisely. But don't let me keep you any longer.”

Kore didn't have to be told twice.

 

**Part IV**

Demeter didn't make it to Hephaestus's Forge without being discovered by lesser deities. Tales were carried to her brothers and sisters on Olympus, and it wasn't long before rampant speculation came very close to the truth: Kore was missing! The rumors reached the god of smithies before Demeter could, but Hephaestus was still kind: All he could truly do now was keep an eye out for Kore, and offer a safe haven should she need it.

Rather than continue her journey to secretly gather allies, Demeter went directly to Olympus. Better to dispel the inaccuracies of rumor and make her stance known. Easier said than done: Many gods and goddesses had arrived to witness the spectacle of Demeter at court. It was all she could do to keep her nerve, supplicating for help and telling the story of Kore's abrupt disappearance to Zeus, even while she heard snickers from the crowd. She requested and was granted a private audience before Zeus and Hera, and quickly left to prepare herself for the potentially trying encounter.

Only when she stood before the King and Queen of Olympus could she make her fury with the rumors known, and reveal her true intentions for being at court. She wanted her daughter back, and Zeus had better be prepared to assist her in the ordeal! On this point Zeus wavered, informing her that he had already received petitions from many gods with the offer to search for Kore … on the condition that if successful, they be given her hand in marriage. He even produced a long list of the names of these gods, and read a few of them off “only to see if any were agreeable to her.”

So not one deity on Olympus was disappointed: Demeter threw such a fit that it was heard in all corners of the divine kingdom.

 

**Part V**

Hades decided that Kore shouldn't stay cooped up too long, so he invited her on a tour of the Underworld. She seemed a little more upbeat after meeting those gods over dinner. As much as he was bothered at times by Xenophon and her antics, he had to admit that she had a good influence on Kore.

They started by taking a leisurely stroll to the river Styx. Mention was made of the construction of the palace, which Hades explained to a creation by other inhabitants as a gift to the Lord of the realm. While standing before Styx, Kore finally asked questions Hades had been half-dreading and half eagerly anticipating: questions about Demeter.

“Why is my mother so clearly ill at ease among Olympians?” Kore asked.

“You must begin by understanding that your mother must deal directly with mortals. She is practical. Part of why she has always resented other Olympians is that they look down upon the very beings who make them important.”

Kore thought about this. “I suppose it's a noble reason to dislike people, but only to an extent...”

“Yes of course. Many of the individual gods have also done harm to her. The rest generally don't take her side. She often ends up facing the court alone, which is enough in itself to make anyone bitter.”

“But you do too, right?”

Hades shrugged. “Certainly. Take into account, though, that I have my own realm and court. Your mother does stand alone in every sense of the word.” He paused contemplatively before continuing: “Perhaps I don't reach out to her as much as I should, but then again, I'm not around enough to make a difference.”

“So … she really wants to protect me?”

“Exactly. It's only natural she wouldn't want you to make the same mistakes or face the same hurts as she.”

After another moment, Hades continued to talk about his realm. “This is the river Styx. The goddess Styx dwells at the bottom, directing and controlling the force of the current. There are four other rivers that flow from my immediate dominion into the main kingdoms. Styx is also often referred to as the river of Hatred.”

Kore looked into the inky depths. “Why is that?”

“Some say it is because it gains strength from mortal hatred.”

“What do you say?”

“I say it's actually none of my business, even as lord of the realm. I've had too many fights with the goddess Styx to be concerned about it anymore.” Hades pointed in another direction. “Over that way is Phlegethon, the river of Fire. It goes to Tartarus, which is overseen by Cronus … my Father.”

“I thought he had been killed!”

Hades was already walking in the direction he had indicated, and he didn't turn around when he said: “Alive and well. I'll explain more when we visit.”

Phlegethon did indeed give off a good deal of heat. In addition, it was enshrouded by an unpleasant sulfuric odor. Kore was thankful that she didn't have to spend too much time next to it, as the path was rather short. It took them to a drop-off, where the river turned to a waterfall, spilling over the edge like liquid flame in the bottomless pit.

“Here is the god Tartarus.”

“Where?” Kore strained to see into the Abyss.

“No, this is it. This is Tartarus,” Hades said again. As if in response, a great sound like a growl and a yawn came up to them, and foul air was spewed into their faces. Kore felt ill, mere seconds before emptying her stomach into the gorge. Even though he may have chuckled lightly, Hades held her hair and rubbed her back.

“I should have warned you. In any case, we've been permitted entrance … when you're ready of course.”

Hades took her arm, and before she could protest, they had walked out onto thin air. She clung to him as they began a gentle descent. They gained speed gradually until they were entirely surrounded by darkness. When they hit the ground some time later, Hades produced a lantern which gave off a cheery glow. By its light, Kore could only just discern the path they took. They went along until they came to a door. Hades hung the lantern next to it, and knocked twice.

The door opened, and he ushered her through. Inside was a chamber carved out of rock, and a throne was at the other end. A greenish glow lit the entirely empty room. The throne was occupied by a god in long white robes. A scythe leaned blade-down against the right side of his throne. The god rose.

“My son,” the god greeted in a low voice. Kore couldn't detect any emotion in his voice or face, but she saw a twinkle in his eyes. He embraced Hades, and the embrace was returned. The god then looked at Kore with scrutiny, but the same twinkle from before had not gone away.

Hades spoke, “Father, this is Kore, daughter of Demeter. Kore, this is Cronus.”

Kore smiled nervously, and was astounded when Cronus bowed to her. Hades was similarly confounded.

“Daughter of Demeter you may be, but daughter of Zeus you are too.”

Kore felt her blood freeze.

“Father!” Hades admonished.

“She must learn everything, ere she claims her royal status.”

Hades braced her before she could swoon.

“Now, now,” came a gravelly voice, “I don't want any incidents on the girl's first visit.”

A great snake with the head and torso of a goddess entered the chamber from behind the throne. She coiled herself up and rested against her lower body. She addressed Kore directly: “Please excuse the manners of the Old King, and allow me to introduce myself. I am Tiamet, protector of this realm of the Abyss. Do forgive Cronus his impertinence,” she finished, reaching out to Kore to pat her arm. Kore could only nod.

“I brought her here to introduce everyone, so I think we should be moving along,” Hades announced.

“But you only just arrived,” Cronus pointed out.

“It was enough,” Hades replied, steering Kore away from Tiamet.

“Until next time,” the serpentine goddess called after their retreating figures.

Once outside, Hades took the lantern from before, and brought it all the way back up during their ascent. At the top of the waterfall, he turned to Kore and inquired after her health. “Are you all right to continue this tour? I can tell you more about what Father just said, but I'd prefer to keep moving. Over there is the river Lethe, and just beyond that are the Asphodel Meadows.”

Kore took a deep breath and nodded.

They went on their way, and Kore asked, “Zeus is my father?”

“Yes.”

Kore remained silent until they reached Lethe. After Hades exhorted the river's oblivion-inducing qualities and the goddess Lethe's renown for bestowing consolation, Kore asked her next question.

“Everyone knew and no one told me?”

Hades hesitated. “Yes.”

“Even you.”

“Correct.”

Kore returned to silence.

They crossed the river by a bridge into the Asphodel Meadows. It was very crowded, as many souls came here, and it was dreary enough that Hades avoided visiting too often. They kept close to the banks of Lethe, and watched some of the souls going about their business – much as if they still lived.

“There's no need for a ruler of Asphodel. The souls require no punishment or supervision, and they deserve no rewards or special treatment. There are very rarely any problems, but if there are, Lethe informs me in a timely fashion.”

Kore's silence was beginning to unnerve him, but he was determined to carry on with the tour. They crossed back over the river and headed for Cocytus, the river of Wailing, from whence they could make for Elysium.

Awaiting them on the other side of Cocytus was Rhadamanthus (as introduced to Kore). They were shown around to a few of the dwellings of the inhabitants. To Hades's knowledge, Kore would normally have asked many questions about the wondrous realm. He was worried when she didn't.

The visit was mercifully cut short when a runner came bearing the message that a judgment was to take place at Hades's palace.

The party returned post-haste – Rhadamanthus included. Hades settled Kore on to a comfortable divan just off to the side before he took his throne. Rhadamanthus stood beside him, saying, “I believe this is an appeal, my Lord Hades.”

“Indeed?” Hades responded, asking in one word for all the details.

“The man in question was told some time ago that he was to reside in Asphodel, but has resisted this ruling. He fought in no wars, sired no children, and payed no tribute to any lord whilst living.”

The merest twitch of Hades's left eyebrow gave him away. “Show him in.”

At the other end of the hall, a lone man walked in. Kore looked him over while he gave an account of his life in his own words. He seemed to be a man of principle, but lacked charisma; and yet his whole life was spent defending himself. Nonetheless, a rather uninspiring man, Kore decided. But perhaps she missed something: Hades agreed with Rhadamanthus's suggestion that he be allowed a trial period in Elysium. When she asked Hades later what made him consider the man worthy of the Elysian Fields, he responded that the man showed considerably more depth of character than many other souls in the Asphodel Meadows.

Before Hades could take Kore on a tour of the palace, another older and sickly-looking man hobbled in.

“Charon? What brings you here?” Hades asked.

“I cannot cross Acheron regularly. Whatever may be that thing breaching our world is now impeding my work, too,” he stated plainly and without pomp.

Hades shot a cursory glance at Kore before speaking, “The Entity?”

“Yes, my Lord Hades. Please come.”

Kore was beckoned to follow along to the docks of the last river in the Underworld. There Charon demonstrated his problem. He guided his boat halfway across the wide river before stopping. “That is only a little further than I got last time,” he said as he docked the boat.

“When was the last time you could cross regularly?”

“About two days ago, my Lord, just before you summoned everyone to discuss the Entity.”

“Why didn't I hear of this sooner?”

“I thought that either I could fix this problem, or that it would work itself out before too long. I fear that there may be many souls waiting for this voyage.”

Hades climbed into the boat, and Charon understood. Again, they got little more than halfway, and had to turn back. It seemed to be a symptom of the bigger problem, and there was nothing to be done until word came from Hecate. He did not voice this last part to Charon or Kore, and instead bid good-bye to the Ferryman, and led Kore back to the palace.

Hades came to the conclusion that he would have to begin tutoring Kore for when souls again came through to his realm. There would be much work to do then.

 

**Part VI**

Kore rolled over again on the plush bed and stared at the closed drapes. It seemed such a short while ago that she had pulled them shut against the mild gray light. Rather than closing her eyes again, she sat upright and looked blearily at the open book which was face-down and sprawled on the heated tiles of the floor. She picked it up and memorized the page number before closing the now-warm book and placing it on the bed.

Her feet made no noise as she padded over to the wardrobe provided. There were a number of outfits within, and she chose one of the simpler ones; it was still slightly nicer than the attire she had worn to her own party on Olympus. She thought again about what Hades had said regarding her mother.

She left her room and went outside the palace, hoping that she could walk off a growing feeling of weakness. Before long, she stood at the river Styx. There too was Xenophon, her gaze cast into the deep darkness.

“Hello,” Kore said softly. The nymph turned and smiled.

“Well met, dearest. Come here.”

Kore went and stood beside her as directed. For a while, neither spoke. The look on Xenophon's face seemed to hint that something troubled her. The nymph finally spoke.

“It was good to see those gods at dinner after so long. The only thing is, is that Hades never troubles deities such as they, unless it is of utmost importance. Especially Ophion. Did you know that Ophion was banished here long ago? Indeed: Before even Hades was conceived. Most Olympians will have nothing to do with those gods.”

“So do you know why Hades asked for them?”

“Yes – and I believe you do too. Alone, he is unable to preserve the safety of his realm. That entity grows in power every single day. And we do not know what it is. Even to the memory of the Ancients, it is alien.”

Said Kore in a bewildered tone, “Hades seems so powerful.”

“Not enough … not this time, at least.” Xenophon paused. “I must be on my way, but I urge you to take care when exploring this realm alone. Farewell,” she said. Kore returned the salutation.

When Xenophon had gone, Kore crept nearer the river. Hades might have wrung her neck if he had seen her. She cautiously dipped her sandal-clad foot into the dark waters. A chill spread throughout her and she instantly regretted her decision. If she had felt that her energy was fading before, she now felt utterly drained and vulnerable. A voice then resounded in her head.

_Little Goddess of Fair Spring. I have been waiting for you._

“What do you want?” she asked aloud.

_I want my rightful place. When the stars come into place, I will have it._

“This is not your place,” she said defiantly; braver words than she truly felt.

_I suppose it shall be you or I who shall perish before the end, Lady Persephone. I look forward to meeting you in battle._

The chill subsided and Kore stumbled back out of the river. Without any further hesitation she returned back to the palace.


	8. Claim

**Part I**

Hestia sat at her hearth, looking attentively into the flame. Only moments earlier the fire had turned a brilliant purple, announcing that a visitor would be coming through from the Underworld. She couldn't remember the last time someone from the Underworld had visited using this route – not since Hades had found a way to physically open a route without severely distorting the nature of the realms of the living and the dead.

A lumpy figure started to form in the opening, and arms reached out as if this visitor was crawling up from a well. Hestia was mildly surprised when her sister Hecate emerged onto the hearth, wheezing for air. This should be the one goddess to never need the oldest and most primitive way of crossing between the worlds! Without a word, Hestia went for something to brace her sister. She brought back a strong rye drink in a beautiful glass and handed it to Hecate – who tossed the drink back a second after she grasped it.

"Thank you, dearest," said Hecate in a raspy voice after catching her wind. "Words cannot express how happy I am to see you."

"I am always glad to receive you … but what made you take such a measure?"

"I have news of a most serious nature. And perhaps good news, depending on your perspective."

"Please tell me the important news first."

"There is a primal deity emerging from another dimension. I witnessed it kill a lesser god of Olympus. This entity has cut us off from the realm of the living, and even was so bold as to attack Hades. It chased him into his own domain. I volunteered to come through, and the journey was much difficult than last I recalled."

"This is very bad indeed: doesn't Zeus know?"

"Yes. He and Poseidon and Hades have convened on this matter before. You must bring this information to Zeus and make it known to all. This is no time to keep secrets. And speaking of which …" As Hecate trailed off, Hestia noticed a glimmer in her eyes.

Hecate waited for Hestia to give a sign of being interested in this next piece of news she had; and Hestia leaned forward.

"Kore got trapped in the Underworld with Hades. He was visiting her to give her a late present, and that's when they were attacked. She's there now, and they are both safe."

Hestia leaned back. "Well I suppose I have news for you too: Demeter is searching for Kore, practically tearing down everything in her path. She came here not too long ago asking for my help, and proceeded to berate me when I pointed out that I wouldn't be enough help."

"Knowing Demeter, there must be more to that story."

Hestia raised her eyebrows. "Are you encouraging gossip?"

"Well, how badly does Demeter need to know where Kore is?"

"Demeter went to Olympus to ask Zeus for help. He said he would put all the gods up to the challenge of finding her … and as a reward, the finder gets Kore's hand in marriage."

Hecate gaped at this information. "It sounds as though she'd be willing to face down this Entity to have her child back." Hestia nodded, and Hecate added, "But she must not interfere with the work."

"No indeed."

"Shall I tell Kore about her mother?"

Hestia thought for a moment. "Not if it will keep her safe in Hades's protection."

**Part II**

Kore picked at the food. _Persephone, Persephone, Persephone._ She needed to know where that name came from. More and more, she understood it to be hers, and she was coming to really want it. She wanted to own that strange, new, mysterious identity. The one which everyone else already knew to be hers, and all she had to do was reach out and claim it.

That thing had addressed her as such.

"Are you quite alright?" asked Hades. She looked directly at him without speaking until she could form her query into words.

"Is Persephone my rightful name?"

Hades let a little smile take over his face. "Never let it be said that you are unperceptive." He put his spoon down. "Although sometimes I wish your questions tended towards insipid matters. Yes, Persephone was to be your name."

He let her consider this momentarily without interrupting her.

"So, why wasn't I given the name?"

"We've discussed Demeter before. Most likely, she did not want to do what was expected of her so that she could better hide you."

"In a way, she hid me from myself?"

Hades really smiled now. "I suppose so. It often works best for those in positions of authority and power to create doubt, and thus create a need for those of their ilk."

"What does the name mean?"

"Devourer of light."

Kore felt a shudder go through herself. Could that truly be her? She voiced this concern.

"It is your identity to mold," Hades replied. "Do as you see fit."

"Every other god and goddess was born knowing themselves. You were all born fully grown. How am I truly supposed to do this when no other god has before? I'm the only one who has to grow into it."

Hades had to admit: Kore seemed to be in a similar position to the one he had to face. "That's not entirely true. I and my brothers and sisters were all born as babes. We too grew our own identities. It is the _lesser_ deities who are fixed in their ways. True strength and power comes from adaptability. Rather like mortals."

Kore looked shocked.

He turned back to his meal while she mulled it over.

"But my identity _must_ be fixed! That entity seemed to know me!"

"Entity?" he asked sharply. She averted her gaze, looking very much like someone who had said too much. "I told you to keep your distance!" he barked.

"I had to," she said lamely.

Hades paused so that he could keep a clear head. "You didn't have to do anything but stay away. I need to keep you safe, and you really need to understand that."

"How can I stay safe if you won't tell me anything?"

"I tell you more than your mother did."

"Look how well that turned out."

Hades didn't take the bait. He didn't see Kore at the next meal. Hades had spent most of his time trying to organize those under his authority to be ready for any sudden attack from or growth of the Entity. He didn't even think anything of not seeing Kore until he was well into the second course of his meal. He put down his spoon and beckoned a servant, who claimed that he had been unable to locate the young goddess. It must have surprised the servant to see such a look of wrath turned on him.

Hades neglected his original work and put everyone on alert for Kore. He searched every crack and crevice of his palace. With growing anxiety, he noticed that time in the Overworld would be getting on to be several weeks of Kore's absence. One day, he came back to his study after another pointless search of his palace, and he noticed that a number of books were slightly out-of-place. He stared at them, considering who might have dared to do such a thing. Rather than sit down and get to work, he wandered back to the throne room. Absentmindedly, he sat on the throne.

To his utter astonishment, Hermes came bounding in.

"Hail, Lord Hades," said the messenger.

"Hail," Hades returned after sitting up straighter. Before Hermes could get another word out, Hades asked, "How is it you come to be here?"

Hermes seemed puzzled. "By the same way as always, Lord."

Hades stored this information for later. "What is your purpose?"

"Two items of news in this errand. Zeus bade me to bring tidings of souls who cannot find their way into your realm."

"There is a problem in the breach between worlds."

"I had heard," said Hermes, "and I suppose that is why you are curious as to how I came here?"

"Yes."

"I will admit to some difficulty. I may only just make it back to the world above."

"We are working on being ready for when the souls come through, but it is not our fault that they cannot find the way."

"I shall inform Lord Zeus."

Hades took a moment to acknowledge this before requesting the second news item.

"I have also come to inquire if you know the whereabouts of Kore, daughter of Demeter?" said Hermes in a sly voice.

Without even thinking about it, Hades responded, "No, I have not seen her in quite some time. I am worried." The look of confusion on Hermes's face was lost on Hades.

"If you see her, please inform us up above."

"Of course," Hades said. Hermes was sent on his way, quite possibly to not be seen for a great length of time. And only then Hades remembered: No one else knew that Kore was here!

**Part III**

The inane chattering was, to Dionysus, little more than bubbling noise. Two nymphs and a satyr had accompanied him on this particular visit to Olympus; they had gone off elsewhere for leisurely pursuits. Dionysus sat alone at a fountain in a courtyard, staring into the rippling water.

As he watched, the ripples moved out further...

...and further...

...further...

Breaking upon the edge of the fountain as though touching it; feeling out the boundaries.

He felt himself become one of those waves, no more than a ripple working out its place in the world. The edge he found gave way, and he spilled into the next world, spreading further...

...and further...

...further...

He broke upon a vast store of power coiled within a tiny body. Sobs wracked its frame, and he had the vague impression that this thing would give out and unleash wonders and horrors in equal measure. He knew what this thing was from only one previous encounter. He knew what this place was from having visited only once.

Dionysus shrank back into himself, shaken by this discovery. Kore was in the Underworld!

When he felt capable, he stood to go reveal this to others more prepared to handle it. Before he had crossed the courtyard though, he stopped. Why _should_ he tell anyone else? He certainly wanted nothing to do with most of these gods – why would Kore? He sat back down to think this through.

That party thrown for Kore had seemed to be a major turning point in her life. Much as she had been enthralled by meeting all the gods and goddesses, he had noticed that there was something reserved about her, especially in dealing with the more ridiculous guests.

She had all the makings of a great goddess. And most of the great deities had had formative experiences in the Underworld. Even though he had come across her in a moment of distress just now, perhaps she was perfectly fine where she was. At the very least, by concealing her whereabouts, Dionysus could forestall her meeting with the flood of suitors waiting to pounce on her when she returned.

His thoughts were cut short when a group of goddesses entered the courtyard. He greeted them cordially before they sat at the fountain and carried on talking as before. Dionysus did not pay attention to the particular words being said or by whom. From what he understood, these goddesses were of the opinion that Kore had either run away and perished, or that she had run off with some god or another. Their words were deceptively gentle – underneath the surface they were jealous and derisive of Kore's character, intelligence, and body. Conversely, they spoke of the gods now out searching for Kore as being heroic, strong, ideal. Dionysus felt his ire rising, so he quickly and politely excused himself.

Yes, he would definitely let Kore be, for better or worse; either way, she was better off away from this place.

**Part IV**

After dinner with Hades, Kore felt sullen and lonely all over again. She sat in her room and considered the events that led to this point in her life. Hades was not the god she had thought he was. It seemed that it was wrong when any other god or goddess exercised their power and privilege, but if Hades could achieve his ends then he had no trepidation in using any means necessary. She sulked in her room for quite a long time before she decided to go for a walk.

Kore didn't have any particular destination in mind, but found herself on the path to Tartarus. Again she stared into the Abyss, but now she was ready for the putrid stream of air blowing in her face. The way down felt shorter than last time, and the way to the hall was now dimly lit. Suddenly timid, she paused at the doors to Cronus's Hall. She knocked gently, and her hopes that the sound would be ignored were dashed when the doors creaked open. Too late to turn back now.

The scythe from before was in the the exact same place, but Cronus was missing. Kore peered around the empty hall, then walked over to the throne and ran her hand over the stone striated with different shades of green.

"Welcome back, dear girl," came the low voice of Cronus. She turned to see him step through a small entrance off to the side of the hall.

"Hello again," she replied politely.

"I am truly sorry our first meeting was cut short. My eldest son is often more brusque than he means to be."

Kore didn't know how to respond, so opted to give a small smile. She looked down at the throne again. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the white robes of Cronus's attire shift.

"You are welcome to join me and Tiamet for our customary tea," he told her as he went back through the doorway. Kore followed him before he was out of sight.

Not only did Kore stay for tea – which she greatly enjoyed – but she stayed quite a while after, following Tiamet around this lower area of the Underworld. Tiamet was only too willing to enlighten Kore as to the finer points of punishment. She was even told the details of the stories of Sisyphus, when she revealed that she already knew the one about Tantalus.

"What are the worst offenders?" asked Kore at one point during her stay.

"Exactly what you would expect," said Tiamet off-handedly.

"But what is that?"

"Murderers, rapists, pedasts, and the like."

"Murderers?"

Tiamet turned to look quizzically at Kore, "Do you know what murder is?"

Kore shook her head.

"Do you know what it means to kill?"

"As in, kill an animal?" she supplied, now frowning.

"Kore, come sit with me on that hill over there," Tiamet indicated toward a hillock where a rivulet of muddy water turned. Once seated, Tiamet sent a searching gaze in Kore's direction. "Mortals are capable of a multitude of things: from the best of emotions to the most painful; from terrifying and fell deeds to the most noble. In Tartarus, we must dole out fitting punishments to the worst offenders. When a human kills another human, it's sometimes an accident. That happens. Yet when that human kills on purpose – maliciously or selfishly taking away the chance for another mortal to fulfill their great potential – that is murder."

Tiamet paused to give Kore a moment to process. She was rather surprised when the young goddess came back with, "But why?"

"For instance, a man might have money or possessions that another man feels entitled to, so the second man kills the first to gain those possessions."

"Why?"

"You must speak to these people yourself. You will come to the conclusion that their actions are still reprehensible, but not mysterious. They do what they do, and that is that. It does not make it right, but even gods cannot ultimately change mortals."

Kore nodded, gazing off to the distance before saying, "What about those other people?"

"Rapists and pedasts."

"Yes."

"Rapists are those who force others."

"Force them? To do what?" Kore looked genuinely confused.

Tiamet sighed. This young goddess was lucky to be garnering this knowledge here rather than through first-hand experience. Most sheltered people learned the hard way. "To be intimate."

Kore now looked downright confounded; Tiamet knew it wasn't because Kore hadn't understood clearly what it was to be intimate. It had probably never occurred to Kore that this happened.

"If you want to exercise power, what is the easiest way to do it?" When Kore didn't respond, Tiamet said: "Control others. Power and control go hand-in-hand. Rape is not intimacy: it is a way of taking power in an intimate way. It is violence. It kills a part of the raped."

Tiamet saw that Kore looked troubled, so they turned to other conversation. When they returned to the Hall, Cronus too noticed her changed demeanor. Kore remained in Tartarus for some time after that, but never worked up the courage to return to the topic or to speak to any of the residents of Tartarus. With some worry about her well-being, Cronus and Tiamet saw her off some days later. They were shocked when Hades came by shortly thereafter and said he couldn't find Kore.

o0o

Kore chose to go to Elysium next. Rhadamanthus received her happily, pleased to be of service to the curious goddess. He expressed a polite regret that their earlier meeting had to be cut short in the interest of business.

"That's just how it is here, though. No time to stick to the pleasantries," he said in mock severity as he poured a glass of rich fruit wine for himself and Kore.

She savored the wine. It was one of the sweetest things she had ever tasted.

"So tell me, Kore," Rhadamanthus said after a moment of comfortable silence, "Where have you been living, if not Olympus?"

Kore looked out across the grassy fields spotted in wildflowers from the small porch on which they sat, crafting a careful answer. "My mother and I lived on an island. There was a small town nearby which I've only visited once." Kore fiddled with the glass, summoning the courage to voice her insecurity. "I never really knew how differently we lived until I saw Olympus recently."

Rhadamanthus sensed that she was holding back, but he let it go. "That's not such a bad thing," he assured her in a light tone-of-voice. "You'll find you are much better off than some of those who cannot get their heads out of the clouds." He winked and Kore giggled at the silly play on words.

Kore mulled it over before asking her next question: "What sort of people come to Elysium?"

Rhadamanthus sat back on the short-backed, long chair he had chosen for his perch. He appeared to be pondering the question as though it was a novel thing to ask.

"Nothing is a sure gamble," he began slowly, "My brother and I try look at each individual with fresh eyes, and attempt to judge them as individuals. It used to be so easy. For example," he said, reaching for the wineskin to top his glass off, "warriors were once allowed direct admittance; without question."

"Why?"

"Their causes were once noble; or they truly felt them to be so. But then their methods became deplorable: to the Earth, to each other. And then innocents fell prey to these warriors. Soon after, the causes of these wars became as cruel in reason as in method. To use war for petty, inane squabbles …"

"Methods? Causes?" Kore asked with no little interest.

Rhadamanthus smiled sorrowfully. "That is for another time. I have not even finished answering your original question!" Kore acceded the point, realizing that perhaps she was not ready for the answer.

"For instance," Rhadamanthus continued, "That man who made an appeal for us to remove him from Asphodel. He has a good deal of insight regarding human nature. Remarkably conscientious, but a bit of a social outcast … The more I see him, the more I understand my mistake of believing that just because someone does or does not have charisma is irrelevant to their strength in principles."

"So … principles and morals get you to Elysium," Kore stated, feeling like she was finally getting it.

"Not entirely. They have to be the correct ones."

Kore was interrupted from questioning him further because a servant arrived with a summons to an appeal. She declined Rhadamanthus's offer for her to come along on business.

o0o

Kore walked through the open fields surrounding Asphodel before meandering back to Hades's palace. Deciding that she had enough daring to do so, she went directly to his study. She did not see him there, but as she scanned the room, a leather-bound book caught her eye. Listening intently, she reassured herself that Hades wasn't in the palace at the moment, so she proceeded over to the magnificent book. She carefully opened it and was greeted by the sight of elegant handwriting in neat rows. It wasn't difficult to decipher the words after a brief initial struggle.

The contents of the book indicated that she was reading from a very old ledger: names, dates of birth, death, and entry to the Underworld, details of life and death, allotted judgment. With morbid fascination, she scanned through these names and all their sordid stories. Finally, she shut the book and moved on to the next thing that caught her attention.

For as along as possible, she flipped through philosophical writings, treatises, historical accounts, and notable accounts of appeals. As best she could, she put everything back the way she had found it. Eventually she quit the study and, subsequently, the palace. She wandered back down to Styx.

Kore recalled her meeting with Xenophon, and the words Hades had had for her when she told him what the Entity had said.

_Welcome back,_ the voice growled.

_Poor welcome that it is,_ she said, surprised at her own audacity.

_My lady Persephone, nothing but the best for you._

In a moment of inspiration, she gathered all her strength and reached out to hurt the Entity. A howl of pain resonated through her head and she pulled back from the river as fast as she could. Kore caught her breath, and waited for retribution. None came, but she heard footsteps on gravel nearby. Her head shot up, and she saw a nude female coming up the riverbank. Kore scuttled back.

"No – I won't hurt you," the newcomer said. "I thank you for giving me a chance to escape my own abode. It was once my sanctuary."

Kore gave her a weak smile. "Who are you?"

"I am the goddess Styx." Kore's astonishment must have been obvious. "I have been captive to that thing for too long now. I must see Hades. But first…" she looked Kore up and down (Kore did not do the same, feeling her cheeks burn with embarrassment that Styx was making no charade of modesty), "You must be Persephone. I have heard so much about you. Some of it from that thing."

Did the light play a trick on her, or did Kore see Styx wink? Kore decided not to correct her about the name; instead, she nodded.

"I shall be on my way," Kore looked away as Styx passed close by, her muscles and curves rippling like the river from whence she came, "but I look forward to seeing you again soon."

Once Styx was out of sight, Kore walked as far as she could from the palace. She walked and walked and walked until she thought she would faint from the exertion. Kore originally thought that she was walking toward a stony gray horizon. She found, though, that she was coming upon the grandest, smoothest wall of all her experience. It stretched up as far as she could see, and spread far to the distance on either side. She put her hands up to it – it was warm and soft! Kore pushed further and she went through the wall up to her elbow.

Her heart beat in her chest so hard that she though it go through the wall before she did. Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, she stepped resolutely into the unknown. The warmth of the wall passed, and she was met with a whipping wind, both hot and dry. With difficulty, she cracked her eyes open. The sight before her was of a vast wasteland under the harshest, brightest light she'd ever felt.

"Halt!" a voice proclaimed.

Kore shrieked and turned toward the voice. There stood a tall male figure, with bluish-green skin and a pointed white cap on his head. He carried a staff and a flail. She was frozen to her spot.

"State your name and business," said he imperiously.

"I-I'm … Persephone," she responded. The man relaxed and stood back with a look of incredulity on his odd features. Some sort of black substance had been used to line his eyes.

"Persephone." He stared at her. "I see. You should not be here, as this is not your realm. Go back before the path is shut."

"Where is here?"

"I am Osiris, Lord of the Underworld of the Great Nile Kingdom." He stopped there, waiting for her to realize that he had answered an unspoken question. "Go back."

"Why will the path be shut?:

"It has been closing off for a long time. We can no longer reach our cousin Irkalla to the East, nor our friends Kukulkán and Adlivun to the West, nor our forbears Ekwensu and Eshu to the South. Go back. Stay where you are safe."

The god stepped toward her in an intimidating manner.

"But the Entity will kill me there," she blurted out. Close enough to the god to finally see, she saw that his eyes were entirely white. He stopped.

"The great goddess Persephone has a destiny and a duty – it is not here. Return to you land, and right this wrong." He resumed walking toward her. Finally, she decided it would be prudent to back off – she went back through the wall, and into the cold realm of Hades.

She sat with her back to the wall, willing her fear to subside. _Persephone_. The more she heard it, the more it felt like hers.

Finally she whispered, "I am Persephone." It felt right. She tried her familiar name: "I am Kore." She kept repeating these phrases, alternating between the names. She stood up and said in a stronger voice, "I am Persephone." She began the walk back to Hades's palace. The god himself sat on his throne room, looking contemplatively at the arm of the throne. She waited for him to realize she was there. Shock spilled over his face when he did.

"Kore, where did you go?"

"I am Persephone," she responded soundly. Hades was silent, waiting for her to answer the question proper. "I went to Tartarus and spoke to Cronus and Tiamet, and discovered what it meant to do wrong. I went to Elysium and spoke to Rhadamanthus, who told me what it meant to distinguish one's self. I came here, to your study, where the writings told me what it meant to do good. I went to Styx, and distracted the Entity long enough to let Styx go free. I went to the next realm and spoke to Osiris, who told me my destiny and duty was here. I went within, and found that I am Persephone."

**Part V**

The cold fury had yet to subside even after she had walked many hundreds of leagues. Every place that Demeter passed she made to take back each scrap of energy she had put into the Earth. She cursed the planted crops and forbade seedlings to grow. With mere words she made the rain more cruel, the sun more harsh, the wind more sere. Strength built up from within, and her thoughts turned toward revenging herself on all her brothers and sisters and their vapid offspring and their insipid worshipers. The world would remember what it owed her with every plough and homestead she destroyed.

She made sure to travel in the guise of an aged woman so that she might go unquestioned. At a more malicious level, she hoped that some thief or other undesirable might try their luck with what they thought to be a hapless old woman so that she might slake some of her blood-thirst.

Further down the road there stood a small cottage – a hut, really – and just outside a woman pulled weeds from her garden. As the goddess approached, the woman stood and greeted her in a friendly manner, offering to give the traveler some respite from the heat of the day. Demeter accepted, and was ushered into the home. A baby slept in a crib while nearby a boy played a game with pebbles on a floor of packed earth.

Demeter was given a sweet draught of barley-water and a chair near a fire which cooked the midday meal. The woman of the house excused herself to tend to her garden. The boy on the floor looked up from his game when she had gone.

"Why are you out alone? Women shouldn't be out alone."

"When you've gotten to be my age people tend to either want nothing to do with you or want nothing more than to help you. I am grateful to your kind mother," said Demeter. The boy pulled a face.

"She's too soft. That's why she can't go out like Father."

"Never underestimate kindness," she said, feeling the disparity of her words with how she felt.

The boy stood up and wiped his nose on his arm. "Kindness doesn't get you anything. That's why women are stupid."

Demeter chose to ignore the child, drinking the barley-water and watching the flames lick the bottom of the soup-pot. She wondered how a kind woman could come to have such brood. Out of the corner of her eye she saw movement. Her ire rose when she realized that the boy was mocking the way she drank from the cup. He made a face at her when he saw that she had her attention.

"It would bode well for you to respect your elders," she admonished him.

"I don't have to listen to some old hag who has to rely on the kindness of weaklings to get some drink to guzzle."

She was losing patience fast. As he began to laugh, something inside snapped, and she threw the dregs of the drink at the boy's face, instantly turning him into a salamander. A shriek came from the door, and the mother rushed forward to try to catch the little reptile; she was too slow, and it darted into the fire. As the woman wept, Demeter stood.

"You are better off without that impudent mouth to feed." She left without looking back.

Demeter continued walking until the sun began to set, and then she found a thicket growing around an old abandoned well. It gave her shelter from the road, and she decided that this was as good a place as any to rest. Just as her eyes began to slip shut, she heard a splash of water from the well. She pulled aside the curtain of weeds and brambles and peered into the water. There looked up from a well a dark-faced nymph with eyes like a pale dawn. She spoke, "Great goddess Demeter, please hear what I have to say."

"What is your name?" This nymph was unfamiliar to her.

"I am Arethusa, daughter of Alpheus, keeper of this sacred spring."

"Speak."

**Part VI**

_There was desolation everywhere, and it felt more real than this realm or the next. A road went on into the vast distance. The fields were withered and the air felt barren. Even the most bothersome of insects had abandoned this place, it seemed. To the side of the road was a small, shallow ditch; now a small, open grave for human and animal alike, each as scrawny as the next, all having perished under the same conditions. But there were those who would not give in. A group of young humans were hauling carcasses and cadavers out, harvesting the ditch rather than the field. A pitiful fire burned sadly off in the field. The bodies did not come back to the ditches._

Persephone woke up sweating, bewildered by what she had witnessed.

After returning from her travels in the Underworld, Hades had expressed mild annoyance at her absence, but greater respect and admiration that she came back more than hale and healthy. He had given his word that he would put more effort into her education. He also related that he had heard from Styx – as well as Hermes. This "day" would be her fourth lesson. Yet since declaring her identity, Persephone had experienced stranger and stranger dreams. She had no choice now but to tell Hades – she was sure these were actual visions.

She left her bed in a hurry and toweled herself off. Her hair has arranged hastily into a bun, and a dress robe of blue linen was thrown on before she laced up her sandals. She went off to find Hades; this could not wait for their lesson.


	9. And the Air in the Room Changed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Demeter almost makes peace with the situation. There is no peace between Persephone and Hades.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There may be some inconsistencies you've noticed about the spelling of names, such as Cronos/Kronos and Hecate/Hekate. The spellings with "k" seem a little more authentic to me, so I'm trying to move my writing in that direction.
> 
> Never be afraid to point these out to me!

**Part I**

Far above the goddess's head the stars shone brightly while the Moon remained hidden with the Sun below the horizon. Demeter smiled bitterly as she thought of the constellation where the luminaries dwelt this very moment: that insipid water-bearer who waited on her brother, to be rewarded higher than the Queen of the Sky herself.

Even for Demeter this journey had been trying, so for now she rested, thinking on her actions.

Swaths of barren land now stretched from sea to mountain. The mountains, dangerous in times of plenty, were now certain death.

Demeter wanted to feel more satisfaction for what she had wrought, but could only feel the empty chasm where surety of her daughter's safety once was. Arethusa's story left irreparable damage to her heart.

As she came back to herself, she saw three mortal girls approaching her; the youngest held a bucket. She waited for them to speak first.

“Good evening, Grandmother,” the oldest said in a sweet, refined voice. Demeter nodded in acknowledgment, putting a smile on her face for their sakes. Their clothes, once fine, were tattered beyond salvation. It was clear that the garb was ceremonial, and it was nearly laughable that they would wear it to draw water. She could also smell them from where she sat, at least one body length away.

“We must draw water from the well on which you sit,” the girl continued meekly. Demeter moved aside and hauled the cover off the well for her. While the three girls worked on pulling the water up – it took the three of them, with their thin limbs, to do this – the middle child spared enough breath to ask the goddess friendly questions: where she was going, where she was from, what was her name. Demeter answered as truthfully as she dared, and it seemed to pay off when they told her that they would ask their family to offer her a place of refuge.

When they had gone, Demeter took her place again, staring up at the stars and thinking about whether or not she would take a chance with mortals again. Once the girls came back her mind had been made up, and she followed them to their family estate at Eleusis.

The girls' mother, Metaneira, received Demeter in the absence of her husband. Demeter liked the woman instantly: her face was care-worn; though perhaps young, her true age stretched the bodily years; this woman was queenly. A small child – a boy – cried incessantly from where was clutching at her side as she held him, bending under his weight.

Wordlessly, Demeter took the boy from the woman. His wailing stopped when she looked him straight in the eye. She rested him on her hip and turned back to the woman.

“Thank you, Grandmother,” Metaneira said. No small amount of gratitude colored her words. “My daughters tell me that you have no place to stay.”

“That is correct.”

Metaneira visibly swallowed, perhaps readying herself to make a grand proposition. “Please stay here as long as you want, Grandmother.” Demeter fought down the surprise. In times like these strangers were burdens, and already this woman was charged with four young lives. “It is not necessary, but would you consider being a nurse for my son?”

Demeter smiled, shifting the boy on her hip to keep him from sliding out of her arms. He had already fallen asleep. It was hardly a difficult task, and would be a good way to earn her keep. “I would be honored, my lady,” she responded softly, careful to add the honorific in order to show Metaneira that she was no threat to her authority. It didn't hurt, because one of the daughters was called in to bring Demeter to a guest room.

**Part II**

The tea she normally took before breaking her fast in the morning was growing colder and colder. She had lifted in to her lips twice without taking a single sip, and had given up feigning interest. Persephone sat at her little writing desk where she normally finished the assignments Hades included in his teaching. Her sleep had been restless, and the restlessness had carried into the waking hours.

_The nymph had deep black and blue flesh, darkest at her fingers, and trails of ice on her cheeks and lashes._

Persephone dipped a reed into the ink pot and then held it above a blank sheet of papyrus. As if she could think of anything to write. Ink dripped from the reed and splattered against the precious sheet. She felt like she was losing precious time. The ink, once dried, could be carefully scraped from the papyrus. She put the reed back into the ink pot, not caring if Hades later scolded her for destroying another reed by leaving it soaking too long 

_A dog was eating something, shaking its head vigorously the way animals do when tearing something apart. As though it heard her, it turned and looked in her direction. The dog's former master was without a face._

She stared out of the windows, hands clasped behind her back, trying to scrape the dreams from her memory. Timing had never seemed right, so she had yet to tell these dreams to Hades. The longer she withheld them, the more guilty she felt, and the more reluctant she became to come forward with them.

_A boy taunted an old woman, and then he was turned into a small creature who darted into a fire. The boy's mother was confronted by an angry man, and though his hand held an iron hoe, the killing blow was swift as wind._

In the distance was the river, now devoid of a nymph or any guiding force. With a growing sense of being extraneous, Persephone again left the safety of the palace to have words with the Entity. She was stunned by a jolt of pain before making contact with it, her lower abdomen feeling like it quickly ripped open and resealed. She recovered quickly.

_And hello again_. Did she hear a bit of disappointment in its greeting? She decided to take a bold approach.

_Do you torment me in my dreams?_

_Oh, my lady, I would if I could. I loathe you more than all your relatives, for all that I have them in my grip._

_What are you doing to them?_

_Merely preparing them for when the stars are right. You and your kind are a hollow echo of the glory of the Ancients, and your time as regents will end quite soon._

Persephone shut herself off from the conversation to consider this. Was this all its intent laid bare? Why reveal it now?

_Why are you really doing this?_

The response came back without missing a beat: _Why does anyone do anything?_

Another sharp pain, and Persephone decided it would be wise to retreat. She left quickly without any trouble, making it back to the palace with time to spare before the morning's lessons with Hades.

o0o

As expected, Hades had something to say about the destruction of yet another reed. He held the soppy wood up in front of her face – vaguely threaten to smear ink on her – while he made his point. She looked at him instead, transfixed by the little bit of green toward the outside of his left eye. When he slammed the soiled reed on the desk, she jumped.

“Are you even listening to me?” Before she could respond, he said, “No, I guess not. Tell me, Persephone, how can I be sure you take seriously anything else I teach you?”

She took a deep breath and recited back the main points of the past few lessons, adding in her own thoughts in order to garner favor. Hades silently assessed her for so long that she felt her stomach clench. Regardless of scrutiny, she met his gaze levelly, and willed herself not to blush. A raspy laugh broke the moment, and the two contestants in the battle of wills turned to see Hekate at the door. They called to her at the same time:

“Thia!”

“Where have you been?”

Persephone ran to hug the older goddess, who told Hades, “Doing exactly what I said I would do.”

Perhaps inspired by the flippant attitude, she told Hekate, “He likes to ask that question a lot.” The glare Hades sent her raised the hairs on the back of her neck. Hekate laughed again and squeezed Persephone's shoulders.

“Good to see she's a handful.” Hades may have been about to say something, but she continued, “I have news you both need to hear.” The subdued tone impelled Persephone to lean closer. Hades suggested that they move to the larger table in his study.

The space had to be cleared so that they could sit near one another. Hades poured wine for the three of them. As Persephone took a sip, Hekate cried out.

“My dear, you haven't been eating and drinking the food here, have you?”

Persephone felt confused. “Of course I h-”

“It's ambrosia and nectar from the storerooms, Hekate, enchanted to resemble food to which she is accustomed.” Persephone forgave him the transgression of interrupting her; she wanted to know more.

Slowly, Hekate smiled. “Oh, I should have known you were more thoughtful and kind than you would have us believe.”

Persephone looked to Hades. He gave her a tight smile.

“If you eat the food of the Underworld you are bound to the realm. You would never go home,” he explained. The topic was changed quickly.

“It took very long to find a way around the Entity: I had to use the Old Road. On my way, I saw this evil kill a number of the lesser gods who rarely venture to Olympus or cross paths with their lords and ladies. When I reached the Upper World, I came out through Hestia's Hearth. She told me that there are multitudes of souls waiting for the Ferryman,” Hekate glanced at Persephone, “and that Demeter has withdrawn her gifts from the world in anger over the loss of her child.”

“Hermes came here and told me all this a while ago,” Hades responded coolly. “He asked for Persephone herself.”

The air was laden with the weight of this information.

“How did he get through, and why did Persephone not go back with him?” the older goddess hissed.

Hades related to them the entire exchange, making it clear that he was taking responsibility for his mistake.

“I could have gone with him?” Persephone finally cut in. “Why did you do that? Send him away. And why wasn't I told sooner? I know I was away, but couldn't you have kept him here longer? The world needs me to be with my mother!”

The others were silent, and they were studying her intensely. It was Hades who spoke: “Of course you need to be with your mother, but it sounds like you have been keeping secrets of your own.” The accusatory tone made her suddenly afraid. Feeling all the while that she was not truly in her body, she told them of every dream in excruciating detail, trying desperately to convince them that she had had every intention of telling them.

Once she was done, she felt the tears on her cheeks. Hades looked furious. Before he spoke, Hekate asked, “How long have you been receiving these dreams?”

“Since I returned.”

“Returned?”

Persephone to find cues from Hades about what to do, but he only raised one eyebrow. She blushed and said, “I left the palace for some time and wandered the Underworld.”

“For an entire moon,” Hades supplied. “And your return itself was also one moon ago.”

“What did you do in that time?”

Persephone told Hekate the whole story, and even Hades seemed to be paying more attention to her. She avoided looking at either of them.

“And then you claimed your name?” There was approval in Hekate's voice. “I was going to ask why we were openly calling you by your destined name.”

“Since then,” Hades said, “she's been my pupil; learning numbers and letters.” He hesitated, then added, “Persephone will be learning to keep ledgers by the next full moon. Once the way is open, I will need her help.”

Persephone felt pride well up in her heart for the approval from her elders.

“Well isn't that wonderful!” Hekate laughed. “It's too bad I was hoping to teach her a thing or two myself.”

“Have my plans ever figured into yours, Hekate? Persephone, if you wish to learn from the Goddess of Crossroads, you certainly may – but you must promise not to give up on our lessons.”

There was a delay as his words sank in, and suddenly Persephone had bolted to her feet. “Of course!”

Hades's lips twitched. He poured more wine into his and Hekate's cups, and they toasted the young goddess.

Then Hekate spoke: “She should probably know why I went away.”

Hades nodded. “Persephone knows some of it.”

Hekate turned to Persephone. “Right after you come here, Hades returned to place where the rift occurred to see what it was that so boldly attacked him. It hurt him again. He called a council of all deities in the realm to tell us that he needed someone to go up and make contact; to send a message to Poseidon or Zeus, with whom he has discussed this situation before.”

Persephone did her best to keep a mostly-blank face (or feign surprise), because she had known this before when she wasn't supposed to.

Hades interrupted, “Before you came back, Persephone freed Styx from its grasp.” Persephone tried to fight down a blush that crept onto her cheeks. “It's clear that we in the Underworld have the ability to fight, but if our efforts are not concerted with Olympus, we may create more problems. It may be possible to push the Entity back long enough to develop a strategy with them. When we create a stronger connection to the Upperworld, we should already have ideas of our own.”

The little group adjourned for the time so that Persephone could resume her studies. To her, the studies now felt like they had a purpose, and she promised herself she would focus.

**Part III**

Hestia wiped her feet her feet slowly before the threshold, smiling at the little girl who had brought her to see their new nurse. The little girl left. Hestia looked more closely at the nurse who was crouched close to the fire at the other end of the room. A small child was on the hearth, giggling happily.

“So it's you,” she said to the crone. Demeter turned to her.

“Are you going to come sit with me?”

Hestia drew close to the fire, seeing the spells Demeter cast over the child. “That's quite a gift,” she said off-handedly.

“Have you heard anything?”

The crackling of the fire gave Hestia strength. “Hekate came by. It would seem that the Underworld is closed off: she used the Old Road.”

Demeter hummed – the only indication that she was listening at all.

“Your daughter is there. She is well.”

The lack of response from Demeter worried her.

“Did you already know that?”

It was spoken so quietly that Hestia almost missed it: “I did.”

**Part IV**

“Has nobody seen Xenophon?” Hades called to the gathering crowd. The whispers and mutterings should have been enough of an answer. Persephone was wringing her hands, thinking back to the last time she had seen that nymph – too long ago now. Many of the deities were sent back to their realms within the Underworld with orders to search high and low. It remained unspoken; the possibility that Xenophon had fallen prey to the Entity. Persephone was sent back to the palace with instructions to remain hidden. How could she be expected to do so when she could see the river from her window? When she could detect no movement in the palace, she stole away to the banks of Styx.

_Ah. You know, do you not?_

The suave arrogance was clear in its voice. _Everyone does._

_And yet you are the only one here. This is proving to be easier than I had originally planned._

_You have her; my friend._

_You do not know what she is._

Persephone felt real doubt trickle into her heart. This made her angrier.

_I know she is more powerful than a nymph should be._ Persephone thought about it, and continued slowly, _She has more authority here than Hades lets on._

_Indeed._

She screamed in agony when her entire spine felt like it was being pulled like a bow by an archer. Persephone remained on her feet, doing her best to picture the Entity.

It was as large as Mount Olympus, with great tentacles grasping onto the World, pulling ever more of the sickly body through. The thing turned, as though turning over in bed, and one great eye opened, revealing depths of horror and despair and chaos. The same agony she had received she now sent straight into that chasm.

A shriek rattled her body; it now felt as though every bone in her body was shattering.

The exchange of blows rambled like a conversation. Persephone was certain, though, that if she were to die, the Entity would die with her.

A familiar voice cried her name. In the haze of pain she couldn't quite see who it was. A brilliant light flashed for a moment, and then the darkness seemed to deepen. The pain stopped. She collapsed.

o0o

Xenophon hurried to the palace, wild-eyed and frantic. She brought Hades and Hekate back to the place she had been freed. There lay Persephone, broken and bloodied. Hades kept a stone face as they carried her back; a grim procession attended by all the returned gods.

She may yet live, was what Hekate told everyone through pursed lips and a paled face.

Persephone was laid on a bed, and all those present tried to avoid noticing its resemblance to a bier.

o0o

But her strength returned quickly. And perhaps that's what made Hades so angry.

Upon awakening, Persephone was attended constantly by every friend she had made. Bouquets of strange flowers were brought by Rhadamanthus and Kronus; New books and scrolls courtesy of Tiamet; candy made from nectar by Xenophon; and her recovery was aided by Hekate. It wasn't too long before she was up and about. She didn't see Hades in that time.

As it so happened, Charon notified everyone that he was now able to cross the river. That meant that there would be an influx of mortal souls, and Persephone would have to make use of herself. She was both pleased and nervous that activity was coming back into her life. She had never thought that she was like her mother in her desire to keep herself occupied. Persephone thought long and hard about how she would approach Hades. Finally, she gathered her courage and made her way to the study one morning.

Hades was seated much as he had been the first time she had come across him while exploring the palace. There was no mistaking, now, the fact that his frost attitude toward her was intentional. She cleared her throat, bracing herself at the pinched expression on his face.

“Do you not send messages? Or knock?” he asked curtly.

Thinking that silence would be best, she held her tongue.

“Were my instructions not clear?” he continued, jamming his reed back into the ink pot.

“They were clearly wrong,” she said without thinking. The pure rage on his face was almost worth it. She bit back an insolent smile when he loomed over her.

“I must keep you alive until such time that your mother may take you back, Kore.” He spat her name like a curse. Perhaps that wasn't worth it. “And though I never liked her all that much, I'm beginning to feel sorry that soon enough I shall be foisting you upon her.

“I should probably avoid wasting all that time spent on educating you: you will work at record-keeping until all is normal again.” He paused and leaned back, looking her up and down. “To think I held such hopes and ambitions for you to become the greatest goddess the Underworld could produce.” He shook his head.

Something the Entity hadn't reached in her now snapped. With all her might, she shoved Hades to the floor of the study. The air of the whole room changed.

Persephone felt her heart beat wildly as she looked down at the powerful god. The look of surprise on his face as he stared back up at her sent a shiver of excitement through her body. He looked vulnerable, the way he began to prop himself up on his hands; the way his collarbone stood out as he shifted his weight and hunched his shoulders; the way his eyes, though often dark and powerful, could not but express an unmistakeable shock at this turn in dynamic. Persephone wanted so badly – wanted nothing more – than to close in on him and kiss him again and again.

A moment passed and Hades still had not gotten back on his feet. Without a second thought, she put her hands on his shoulders and shoved him back down, straddling his lower torso and effectively pinned him in place. Her hair spilled down from behind her ears before she balanced herself upright and fanned her hands as she ran them over the older god's chest. Persephone stared directly into Hades's eyes.

Their mouths met quickly. She put one of her hands to his cheek and he put his hands on her back, holding her down to him.

Their lips and tongues worked with and against each other, each contact and release accompanied by a wet sound, encouraging more. Hades stroked up and down her sides as she rubbed her whole body against his.

Time was lost that day, in the scattering dust on the old tomes where cloth and garment were tossed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo, when I picture the Entity, I picture Cthulu. I imagine Persephone could kick his ass.
> 
> Also, I really love comments. It's totally cheesy to beg, but I ain't too proud to beg.
> 
> Also also, this will probably not be the last *cough* encounter between those two, so I'm keeping the "M" rating up. I know it wasn't much this time around.


	10. Vernal Equinox

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a very long time. The scene between Persephone and Hades was written last year, but I've been struggling to write Demeter's character arc. I think I finally understand her now :]

**Part I**

Persephone cursed when she pulled her hand away from her face. The ink stain on the side of her hand was smudged, and she knew that the rest of it was now on her cheek. Rather than dwell on it, she turned from the window, dipped the reed into the ink (tapping off the excess), and continued marking up the ledger. The crowd outside the palace would still be there later.

“I have the next fifty cases,” Xenophon said wearily, waving a stack of papers. She stood at the threshold, counted them quickly, and went into the room. “How far along are you?”

The room Persephone had been situated in was rather small and square, with a tall window that let in plenty of light. Her writing desk had been dismantled in her chambers and then reassembled here. Meals were brought for her alongside the hastily scrawled cases from Hades. The pile of old papers was set in a far corner – walking to and from it was Persephone's exercise – while the new ones were placed on a little table beside her desk. She had been working furiously to keep up, translating the barely-legible writing of Hades into the neat records of every single death over the previous five months. Each ledger represented a single day, and the ledgers were bound into codices for each month.

Persephone sat back, pointing to the stack of finished ledgers. “There are about one hundred and five there; I'm managing to keep pace.”

Xenophon smirked, putting the new papers at the bottom of the pile on the table. “We're already approaching the last week. I'll take those ledgers out of your way.” She came and went several times before that stack was gone, and by then there was a fresh batch of cases.

The Underworld had become a flurry of activity. Every single realm was making space for the new arrivals; those not engaged in doing this was busy keeping peace among the souls still awaiting trial; or they were counting the obols used to pay passage.

It had been about three days by Hades's reckoning, and Persephone had yet to sleep. It was beginning to take its toll, for Xenophon notified her from time to time that mistakes had been found in the record-keeping; not many, mind, and that was impressive enough. Persephone was tired. But it was a _good_ tired.

_If only Mother could see me now,_ she thought.

She looked back out at the crowd, and saw that they were now closing around a familiar-looking chariot.

 

**Part II**

Demeter was retrieving the girls from the weaving room when a piece of idle chatter caught her ear.

“My grandmother, the one that speaks to spirits, she said that my brother is finally at rest.” It was spoken by a scrawny little slip of a girl, whose large eyes must have once held the silliness of youth. The rest of the conversation adorned by careless naming of the dead, but this child was somber in her concealment of the name.

Since it was not for her ears, Demeter moved on, but it niggled at her mind for the rest of the day. In the past month, it had been rare for her to act on rumors and the tentative connection of mortals to the spirit world. That evening, she threw sacred earth into the fire in her room, waiting for the flames to shine blue for a moment. She stuck her head in after it did.

Demeter was now peeking into Hestia's abode, and Hestia stared back at her.

“This is a pleasant surprise,” the other goddess said. She hardly looked surprised.

“I have a question to ask of you.” Demeter paused. “I had heard that spirits are now passing over.”

“And from whom did you hear this?” Hestia was teasing her, but there was no point in lying to preserve dignity at this time.

“The granddaughter of a medium.”

“Indeed.” Hestia cleared her throat, possible to cover laughter. “At least we know it's a real medium, then, because the way is open. Has been for a few days."

“You didn't think to tell me?” Demeter hissed.

“I thought you would find out on your own eventually,” Hestia replied calmly.

Demeter pulled away from the fire, angered that she was subject to such treatment. She wasted no time in preparing herself for her journey. When night was at its darkest, she cast off the disguise of the old woman, and went outside the estate. She could see all the stars, and she summoned from among them the dragons that would draw her chariot to the Underworld. On the near shore of the Underworld stood souls waiting, and she raced by the, giving the Ferryman a look that dared him to challenge her. He did no such thing.

The chariot alighted outside Hades's palace, where more souls gathered close to it, making the task of disembarking difficult. Nonetheless, she swept by everyone to hastily reach the door. Before she entered the Hall, her name was announced.

At the other end, Hades straightened in his throne, rising from where he had been resting his chin on his hand.

“I had expected you sooner,” he declared.

“Where is my daughter?” If Hades saw no point in real greetings, then she didn't either.

“I'm here,” a familiar voice spoke. Demeter turned, and before her was a young goddess who had the same features and form of her daughter, but distinctly regal and sophisticated bearing.

Without a word, Demeter went and immediately embraced her, faintly surprised that the hug was returned – and with a strength she had not known her daughter to possess. When they pulled away, Kore looked at Hades.

“I'm going to speak with Mother now.” It was a demanding tone and a bold thing to say to the Lord of the Underworld.

Hades replied coldly, “Make sure someone takes over your work.”

“Xenophon already has.”

“Very well.” Hades pointedly ignored them after that, which didn't appear to bother Kore in the slightest. Demeter was led away from the Hall to a very pleasant garden. The way her daughter walked was now graceful, as though carrying a delicate calibration of power and responsibility. They sat down together on a stone bench.

“It's good to see you again,” Kore said softly.

“Oh, my sweet Kore!” Demeter hugged her again. There was a slight stiffening in Kore's posture, which caused Demeter to pull away. “What's wrong?”

Kore looked down and away. “I am Persephone.”

Demeter sat back, not knowing what to say. It only seemed right; this was a different goddess now. But when exactly had this happened? Demeter was suddenly filled with sorrow that she had missed this transformation. If only she had let her daughter grow when she had the chance. They sat in their own little world for a while.

“Are you angry?”

The small voice startled Demeter out of her rumination. “What?”

Her daughter looked exactly as she had merely six months ago. That wasn't right.

“No – no, of course not,” she said, hugging her again. “I don't see how I was ever afraid for you to grow.” Demeter pulled back, putting her hand on the side of her daughter's face, and really looked at her. “I see it now. Persephone. It is much more fitting.”

Persephone looked away again, almost shy. “Thank you.” She cleared her throat and asked, “What will you do now?”

“I've been staying with a very kind family. As it stands now, I ought to make amends for everything I've done lately.”

“Everything you've done?”

“The reason so many souls are here. I revoked my blessing of the Earth.”

Persephone was astonished, and Demeter felt ashamed of herself for hurting mortals in her revenge against both Olympus and Dis. “I had thought that you had only taken the gifts away; but to revoke the blessing…” She was silent, thinking. “Do you know how I came to be here?” Persephone finally asked. There was no tone of judgment in the question.

“Hades stole you away.”

“Not entirely. There was an accident. Or, really, an attack. Hades brought me to the only place he thought was safe.”

“I did not hear of this.” Demeter's mind was racing. Did everyone else know? Is this why the way was shut for so long?

“There was something that was like a god, but very old and very foul, that had found a way here through the seam between the worlds. Its attention was mostly here, but there can be no doubt that it wanted everything. For some time it held the nymph Styx captive, and then it took Xenophon.”

“Why did no one know?”

Persephone shook her head. “There was no way to tell everyone. But Zeus and Poseidon and Hades … they had all known about the threat for a while.”

Demeter scoffed. To her surprise, Persephone chuckled.

“We were all angry about that too. Xenophon was the one who had told me, and that was right before she disappeared.”

“Who is Xenophon anyway?”

“She is a nymph,” Persephone answered, somewhat perplexed by the question.

“Yes, but who is she? Where is she from? She is clearly no common nymph.”

That seemed to give her daughter pause, as if she had never truly considered it before.

“You know, Mother, I am not quite sure. Hades must know, because she is always around.”

Demeter was made somewhat uneasy by the answer, but she let it be. “Well, at the very least, you speak of this…thing…as though it has passed.”

“Yes, the way is clear.”

“How?” Persephone dithered. “Persephone. How?”

“Hades told me not to, but I confronted the Entity and fought it.”

Demeter stood from the bench. It had to be true, but coming from Persephone's mouth it still seemed beyond comprehension.

_Her little girl_ .

She walked over and stared at one of the strange trees, oblivious to her daughter calling out to her.

_Her little girl the Destroyer of Light._ _Not so little any more._

It was doubtful that she needed Demeter at all now. In fact, it would seem that she and many others would need Persephone. Demeter considered this for a time, fighting down sadness and a sense of loss.

“Mother, please!” Persephone sounded desperate. Demeter finally turned her attention back to the present and to her daughter, who was standing behind her now, visibly distraught. She took Persephone's hands in hers and apologized for being inattentive.

“If you had told me last year that my daughter would face such a monumental foe, I would not have believed it. But looking at you now…it is not so very difficult.”

This time, Persephone was the one engulfing her in a tight hug. Demeter could hear her crying, and she let tears of her own fall too. When they parted, Demeter asked to be shown around the palace. Persephone was delighted to do so, but said that she could not take too much time. They also would not be able to go to Hades's study, which was just as well.

Their walk was uninterrupted, though Demeter was occasionally noticed and recognized, but Persephone managed to show her the majority of the rooms and apartments; which by now were filled with work places and busy servants. It was a shorter tour than usual, and when they were at the front of the palace at the edge of the crowd of souls awaiting trial, Persephone suddenly seemed unsure of herself again.

“Am I going with you?” she asked.

“You still have work to do, correct?” To be honest, Demeter hadn't even considered it.

“But after that?”

Although Demeter had hoped to get Persephone back for so long, she knew now that it was not about what she wanted – if it ever _had_ been about what she wanted.

“Listen…it's up to you where you wish to reside. You will always be welcome with me, but you must decide if that is where your talents are best put to use. You don't have to let me know just yet: I will go back to the Upper World, and I will wait to hear from you.”

The parting was less difficult after that. Demeter returned to her chariot with the feeling that when she arrived in Eleusis many mortals would see who she really was. Perhaps it was meant to be. She knew what she had to do next.

When she departed the Underworld, the sun was just rising. When she got to the estate, everyone was already awake and going about their duties and chores. But now they all stared in stunned silence at her chariot. Demeter acknowledged them when she stepped down from the chariot.

“I am Demeter, goddess of the Earth. I have been serving as one of you for a number of moons. The kindness with which I was received was greater than what I deserved for my actions. The blessing I revoked from the Earth is the cause of your suffering, and it cannot be replaced. I intend to repay my debt starting with the denizens of this estate. Find me one among you who is willing to do my bidding, and I shall leave you with a great gift.”

Without another word, she entered the estate and returned to her room, sitting upon a wooden chest. She reckoned it would take some time for mortals to decide among themselves who would come forward, so she took the opportunity to gather her thoughts on founding a collection of knowledge these people could use for ages to come.

It felt rather like no time at all, but when she was roused from her contemplation the sun was low in the west and a young man was standing before her, looking clearly uneasy.

“Your name,” she demanded.

“Triptolemus,” he said.

“And you are the most worthy of human kind?”

He choked. “Well, I was told I would be the most worthy of the town and estate. I do not know if that is true, but I am certain I am not the most worthy of humankind.”

“No, you are right.” Demeter took some pleasure from the tormented look on his face. “At least, no yet.” She stood, and opened the wooden chest.

“Come closer, Triptolemus, and see what is in here. Tomorrow we will begin the real work.”

 

**Part III**

Hades knew she had entered the room before she chose to speak. Ever since their coupling, he had always been painfully aware of her presence, no matter the distance from his person.

“How long will you deny what happened? Or do you only deny it to me?” Persephone asked coldly. Rather than speak hastily, he took a moment to piece his reasoning together and wait to see if she had more to say.

“It isn't right, you know,” he protested softly.

“Even you cannot change that it happened.”

“Of course not. I'm just resolute that it ought not occur again.” Once the words were out, he took a sick pleasure in the anger in her countenance; because he hurt himself with those words, too.

“So that's it, then?”

“Yes,” he said, meeting her gaze squarely.

She broke the moment and began to walk around the study, looking like she owned the place.

“Is there anything else?” he asked her.

“Possibly.”

Hades felt unease when he heard her quiet response. He watched as she inspected a bowl of over-ripe fruits atop a stack of books. Any viewer could have known at a glance how soft the persimmons were, and seen that liquid was gathering at the bottom from the fermenting grapes. A section of an old pomegranate was held aloft from the other fruits, and most of the seeds were browned or blackened and withered.

“What did you have in mind?” he pressed.

Persephone tugged the bowl closer to look at the fruits and she pulled a face at them. “So you intend to push me away completely?” She turned one persimmon over and her thumb went straight through the flesh. She frowned.

“That is the idea.”

“So what do I do with my time in the Underworld, if I am not in favor with the Lord of the Realm?” Persephone had set the section of pomegranate aside to delve further into the bowl. “Oh look, a few dates,” she mused aloud. But she must have decided they were no good either, as she tossed them to the floor with a look of disgust. Hades saw something crawl away from where they landed.

“Until we are certain that all the work is done, that all the cases have been heard, we will have no time to ascertain if it is safe for you to again traverse the void into the realm above.”

“You speak as though you expect me to help you,” said Persephone, a hard edge in her voice. He wondered if she wasn't speaking to the fruits, too. The three persimmons had been set aside carefully on an empty spot.

“What are you looking for?” he finally asked of her in regards to her perusal of fruit.

“Your motive,” Persephone. “Or, where my path leads next. I am no longer in doubt that I must know one to likewise know the other.” She pulled away fingers wet with rancid grape flesh and gathered the persimmons back into the bowl.

Hades let out a heavy sigh; he was quite sure she understood what he had asked and instead chosen to answer a question he had _not_ asked. Or at least one not yet asked.

“Much as it pains us to be near each other, I have found your assistance to be invaluable.” He tried to make his tone as begrudging as possible but he saw a smirk flash across her face.

“Yes, I've found it wonderful to feel useful. Mother never let me take any authority, and I think this excursion to the Underworld – though unplanned and unfortunate for many – has done great things for my growth.” She paused for a moment to take the pomegranate in both hands and pick off the dead seeds. Hades watched as they fell with a _plunk_ into the waste in the bowl.

“I do not want to go back,” she said firmly. He had feared it would come to this.

“You must. That is what we have been working for this whole time. Would you let all our efforts be thrown away?”

“Are efforts truly thrown away on a goddess who finds what lies in her depths?” she asked.

“I can see that Hekate's tutelage has given you strange ideas,” he said bitterly. He hated to admit it, but Persephone had flourished in his realm and she seemed to belong.

“Thia is very wise and you know that,” she said, still working away at the seeds. “I want a place here.”

“The arrogance!” cried Hades, “I cannot believe I'm hearing this from you. Never have I been petitioned with such selfish justification!” He saw her hand was cupped around something, and he guessed she may have found some seeds untouched by rot.

“And yet you speak as though you place confidence in my abilities,” Persephone countered.

“Even if I have confidence in you, every god and goddess is born into a particular realm and role, and you were not born in this realm,” Hades reasoned.

“Perhaps not, but you must admit that I came into my own here.” The remains of the pomegranate were dumped unceremoniously back into the bowl. Hades conceded that point, and Persephone continued, “I know my place, and it's here.”

“There is nothing tying you here, and I will not let our brief union become anything of the sort.”

Persephone opened the palm of her hand and let the six salvaged pomegranate seeds roll around. Hades caught a defiant glint in her eye, and before she could be stopped she had consumed them.

It took a moment for it all to sink in.

“No!” Hades roared. “You vile witch! To what trickery and deceit have you resorted?”

Persephone gazed at him levelly. She delicately wiped the corner of her mouth with her little finger. She didn't flinch when he flew around the table and grasped her shoulders tightly.

“What have you done?” he screamed, shaking her back and forth.

“If I am not mistaken, I have taken it upon myself to bind my destiny and duty to the Realm of the Dead.”

He cast her away violently, but she did not stumble and fall. Hades turned his back on her. He knew she would still be there when he turned again. It was final. No matter what he did now, she was forever bound to serving Dis, as was he and his entourage.

“I will beckon Hermes to bring you away shortly. You will help with matters of the realm until then. I will refuse to see you until it is absolutely necessary.”

He received no response, so he faced her again. Persephone held her chin up in her recalcitrant manner; nothing he said could sour her victory.

“You rise to the surface with the sun at the dawning of the vernal equinox,” he said. “You are dismissed.”

She gave no protest and she left him standing with hollow authority.

 

**Part IV**

Persephone was returning. The news from Hermes rang in her ears. What had gone wrong?

Demeter waited at the entrance to the Underworld for her daughter, anxious again for the welfare of her child. Then, from the dark depths, she saw a solitary form coming closer. When Persephone emerged, she was shielding her eyes from the intense sunlight, wrapped in a fine cloak for traveling. Demeter waited as long as she could for her to get closer, unsure of how to act in this unexpected turn of events.

“Hello,” Persephone greeted her mother. Something was certainly off about her, but Demeter held in her questions for the time being. All that mattered was that Persephone was here now. They could return to the home that they had lived in together, and then they would sort everything out that needed sorting.


End file.
